Say Never (40 page)

Danny smiles weakly at me. “My kids never sleep in.”

“I do,” Cera says. “Those two woke me up.” She jerks a thumb at her half siblings, but I can tell she isn’t really mad.

“Can you help me pick out my outfit today, Auntie Meg?” McKenna asks.

I march over to her and bend down so that we are eye to eye. “You bet. How’s that chin feeling?”

“It kinda hurts a little, but Daddy says I can take some medicine after breakfast and it’ll feel better.”

“Your daddy’s a smart guy.”

“We’re going to Univiral Studios today!” she announces joyfully.

“
Universal
Studios,” Cera clarifies.

“Right,” says McKenna. “That’s what I said.” Cera suppresses an eye roll and keeps her mouth shut.

I’m surprised by these plans. “Seriously? When did this happen?”

“Cera asked if we could go,” Danny explains. He gives me a serious look, but tries to keep his tone light. “Her dad called this morning and it looks like she’ll be heading home on Tuesday, so she can be with him and her step-mom for Thanksgiving. I asked her what she’d like to do, given that
I
chose the aquarium and the Queen Mary.”

“That totally did not suck like I thought it would,” Cera says.

“She said ‘suck,’ Daddy.”

“McKenna!” Danny cries, exasperated.

“I’ve never been to Universal Studios,” Cera says. “Disneyland’s okay, but I’ve been there like three times. I want to see the big mechanical shark and King Kong. They’re supposed to be awesome.”

“Since her birthday’s tomorrow, I thought it would be fun.”

“Will McKenna be okay?” I ask, concerned for my niece. “You won’t take her on any bumpy rides or anything.” Danny looks over at me, a smile playing on his lips. “What?”

“You sound just like a mom,” he says, and I have to bite my lip to keep it from trembling. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it mellow for her.”

“Do you want to come with us?” Cera asks.

“You know what? I’d like to. Honest. But I’ve got some really important stuff I need to get done.”

She seems disappointed, but nods with understanding.

“Oooh, Daddy,” McKenna cries, waving her hand in front of her face. “Tebow made a big stinky!”

Danny starts to rise, but I put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. I’ll get it.”

“Really?”

“Just make me a cup of coffee, will you?”

“Definitely,” he replies, his gratitude evident.

I unstrap Tebow and pull him out of his seat, and the smell from his diaper immediately makes my eyes water. “Oh shi—shoot. That’s some big stink you’ve got in there, bubba.”

“Anny Mae!” he exclaims.

“Right. Auntie Meg. And you’re lucky, because I still love you no matter what you’ve got in that diaper.”

He giggles. Keeping him at arm’s length, I move toward the dining room. When I reach the archway I stop.

“Um, Danny, I have to talk to you when I’m done with Tebow’s diaper, okay?”

* * *

“Tomorrow?” Danny stands in the doorway of the guest room, watching as I carefully fold the pieces of my new wardrobe and pile them on the bed. My luggage never did show up, but I filed a claim with the airline while I was changing my flight so I should see a check from them in the next thousand years.

“But why? I thought you were staying until Wednesday.”

“Because my assistant, Damien, is trying to steal my show, and if I’m not at the station first thing Monday, he’s going to get it!”

My brother crosses his arms and gives me one of his best disappointed looks. “What about the kids? You know I work right up until Thanksgiving.”

“I called an agency this morning. They weren’t open yet, but I’ll follow up with them after nine. They sound really good, Danny. All of their nannies are licensed and bonded and insured and background checked, or whatever. And according to the website, they’re mostly Swedish or Norwegian which will be fun for you too.”

“I told you I can’t afford a professional nanny,” he says and I hold my hand up, palm out.

“I’m going to pay for it. Okay? It’s the least I can do. I promised you I’d cover the kids till Thanksgiving, and I’m going to.”

My brother is quiet for a moment then he shakes his head slowly. “The kids trust you, Meg.”

“And I’m sure they’ll trust Olga or Helga or whichever Nordic beauty shows up at your door.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I thought you would’ve understood that by now.”

“Jesus, Danny, give me a break. They’re kids. Okay? I mean, as kids go, they’re all right I guess, if you like short people who have trouble stringing together sentences.”

I want to slap a hand over my mouth to stop the words from flowing, but I can’t seem to do it. I’m completely betraying my niece and nephew and Cera, and I’m doing it willfully, purposely, pretending that they haven’t gotten under my skin, which they have, or that I haven’t come to care deeply for all of them, which I definitely have. But those truths only make it worse, only propel me to flee faster to the safety and comfort of my isolated life.

“They’ll get over it, Danny. You said it yourself, kids are resilient. By the time I land in New York, they’ll have forgotten all about me.”

“I understand,” he says. “I mean, I know how important your career is to you. A hell of a lot more important than your family.”

“Come on, seriously? I’m supposed to throw away everything I’ve worked for because of a couple of snot-nosed, annoying cretins I’ve known for all of five minutes?”

“Daddy?”

McKenna has sidled up next to Danny. She gazes at me, her eyes very round.

“What’s a cretin?” she asks.

“Nothing, baby,” Danny tells her. “Auntie Meg was talking about something silly, that’s all. You go get dressed, okay?”

“But she was gonna help me, right Auntie Meg?”

I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to ignore the sharp ache blooming in my chest. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect, McKenna. Just make sure you wear your sneakers so you don’t fall down, okay?”

Danny shoots me an accusing look and I frown at him.

“Go on, honey,” he tells her, then gently nudges her away.

I focus on the four neat piles of clothing on the bed and force myself not to glance at Danny. I already know what expression he’s wearing; it’s the same one he wore when I left home at seventeen. The look of bereaved resignation.

“Okay, well, thanks a lot, sis. It was great having you while it lasted. So, I’ll see you in, what, about five or six years?”

I know he’s attempting to manipulate me, but I refuse to be sucked in. I grab the pair of pajamas I haven’t worn yet and set it aside. “I need to borrow a duffel bag or something,” I say, but when I look over at the doorway, my brother is already gone.

* * *

Danny’s garage is filled to the brim with stacks of boxes, toys, kid’s bicycles and scooters, a red wagon, and several dusty tool shelves.

Before Danny and the kids headed out for Universal, he told me that there were a bunch of suitcases and carry bags in the eaves above the wall-to-wall storage cupboard. He did not offer to get one for me. So here I am, up on a ladder, rummaging through an enormous plastic bin and praying I don’t fall and break my freaking neck.

I manage to locate a soft case that looks to be the right size, but when I yank it from the bottom of the bin, I feel my Michael Kors sandal catch on the riser. My stomach lurches as I realize I am about to take a header and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Just before I go flying, I feel a strong hand grip my waist and steady me. I let the bag fall to the garage floor and grasp at the ladder, then look down to see Matt.

“Thanks,” I breathe, relieved. “You saved me.”

He immediately lowers his arm and steps back. I climb down the ladder and brush the dust off my jeans, then bend over and pick up the carry case.

“I came over to drop this off,” he says. He hands me a few pieces of mail without meeting my eyes. “They’re addressed to your brother, wrong delivery…”

“It’s a good thing you came when you did, otherwise I’d have broken my ass.” I force a chuckle, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this awkward around a man, even one I’ve actually had sex with.

“Glad to help,” he replies, although he doesn’t look glad at all. He glances at the carry case. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Home. Tomorrow. I was going to come over and say goodbye, but…” I shrug.

“Okay, well. Goodbye, Meg.” He thrusts out his hand and I take it. As soon as my palm touches his, a charge of electricity runs up my arm and through my entire being. I yank my hand back a little too quickly.

“Goodbye, Matt.” I want to say something more than ‘It was nice meeting you.’ Nothing comes to mind that would make any sense or make this any easier. So I pretend indifference. “See you around.”

“Sure.” He smiles sadly. “See you around.”

I watch him retreat from the garage. He wears the same tattered blue shirt he wore the night of tequila. My heart pounds in my chest and I bite my lower lip to keep my emotions in check. I have never wanted to be with a man with as much intensity as I want to be with Matt Ryan.

I don’t bother to blame the hormones.

* * *

“Hi, Dad.”

“Well, Meggly-weggly. What a nice surprise! I didn’t expect to see you today.”

Obviously, since he isn’t wearing a shirt. The hair on his torso looks like a curly grey sweater. At least he’s wearing pants.

“Who is it, Buddy-wuddy?” comes the voice of an older woman from the back of the condo.
Oh fuck.

“It’s my girl,” he calls proudly. “My Meg.”

I shrink away from my father and take one step off the landing.

“Where the heck are you going?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, Buddy. I just wanted to stop by and say—”

“Oh, peeshaw! You’re not interrupting a darn thing. We did that hours ago.” He winks at me and I cringe. “Bettina was just ironing my shirt.”

Sure enough, an attractive, older woman with impossibly red hair appears at the doorway holding a Tommy Bahama knock-off. She wears a Betsey Johnson floral dress with a bodice snug enough to show off some fairly spectacular sixty-something cleavage.

“Bettina, this here’s my daughter, Meg. She’s a famous radio personality in New York City, isn’t that something?”

“I’m not famous,” I say under my breath. Bettina tosses the shirt to Buddy, then throws her arms around me.

“My goodness! Meg! Your daddy just goes on and on about you! It’s so nice to meet you finally, after all I’ve heard about you!”

I stand rigid as she squeezes me, lets me go, then squeezes me again.

“I just made some stuffed shells for lunch. You must come in and join us, they are divine. A new recipe I’m trying out.”

“No, thanks. I really can’t stay. I just wanted to say goodbye to my dad.”

“Goodbye?” Buddy looks confused as he buttons up his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“I’m heading back to New York tomorrow.”

“But I thought—”

“I have to go, Dad. You said it last night. My life is there. I need to be there.”

I watch my father’s face crumble and his eyes go all sad-puppy-dog, his formerly sprite manner evaporates and a lethargy overcomes him. I clench and unclench my fists while I count to ten.

I will not feel guilty. I will not feel guilty.

Bettina sighs heavily, then reaches out and places a hand on Buddy’s shoulder.

“Isn’t that a shame, Buddy?”

“Well, damn,” he says, swiping at his eyes. “I sure will miss you, honey.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Before I can escape with my breathing intact, he gathers me into his usual bone-crushing hug. This time, I hug back. A lump rises in my throat and my eyes well up. Luckily, the faux Tommy Bahama shirt absorbs my tears before anyone can see them.

* * *

“What’s this?” Caroline asks, taking the Bloomingdale’s bag from me.

“It’s just a little present for you. More importantly, what’s that?”

She follows my gaze to the monitor beside her bed. An electronic line runs steadily across the screen, arcing at regular intervals.

“Oh, that. We had a little excitement this morning. Euthalia’s blood pressure dropped so they’re keeping an eye on it.”

“Oh my God.” I feel my shoulder tense.

“It happens. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Did you tell Danny?”

“God, no. He’d freak out and come over here and I wanted the kids to have a good day today.”

I take a breath and let it out on a sigh. If Caroline isn’t worried, there’s no reason for me to worry. But when I look at her, I detect the slightest hint of fear in her eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she states adamantly. “I’m sure.” She absently rubs her belly.

“Where’s the, uh, electrode things that takes the baby’s blood pressure?”