“We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” Ryan said.
Lydia nodded with a vigor that made him smile.
“While I’m here, do you have some kind of bouquet I could take to my stepmom?” he asked Holly.
“We have a few premade arrangements.” She pointed to the large refrigerator with the clear door. “You can take a look and see if you like any of them. If not, I can throw something else together for you.”
“I’m sure we can find something that works. I don’t know anything about flowers. Can you help me choose, Audrey?”
The two of them made their way to the display and quickly came to the counter with one of her favorites, a lovely spray of red roses, white Asiatic lilies and red-and-white carnations. It was accented with pine cones and seasonal greenery along with a small balloon pick that read Get Well Soon.
“This is a nice one,” she said as she rang it up and gave him the total.
“Yes. It’s lovely,” he said, swiping his credit card.
“I suppose we’ll see you later tonight, then,” he said, after she gave him the receipt.
“Sounds good,” she answered, trying her best to ignore the little quiver of anticipation she didn’t want to feel.
Something told her Ryan Caldwell was trouble, something she definitely didn’t need this year.
She had endured enough trouble because of a man who wasn’t good for her. She didn’t need to go looking for more.
Chapter Two
HOW HAD HIS LIFE COME TO THIS?
As Ryan drove through a lightly falling snow toward the home of the father he usually did his best to avoid, he tried to figure out what the hell he was doing here.
His leg hurt like the devil from the long day of travel. He didn’t want to be here. But what else could he have done? Kim needed him.
He still reeled when he thought of her tearful phone call a week ago, the day after Thanksgiving.
He had been stretched out in his condo with his knee on ice, settling in to watch a bowl game, when Kim called, her voice panicked and tearful.
“Diane’s been hurt. There’s been an accident. She’s in the hospital. I was arrested. Dad bailed me out.”
The barrage of information hit him like the spray from a .50-caliber machine gun and he could do nothing but stare, certain he must have misheard something.
“Arrested? For what?”
She made a tiny noise, almost a whimper. “DUI,” she finally said. “I was under the influence of pain meds. I should never have been driving. I could have killed all of us. Diane. Audrey. Me. The other driver. Oh, Ry. I screwed up so bad.”
At that, the whimper became a full-on sob, followed by another and another.
“Slow down. Deep breaths, Kim.”
His own words reminded him painfully of how she tried to comfort him during those dark weeks after their mother died. He had been thirteen, trying to tell himself to man up and not be such a mess. Kim had been two years older, forced to stepinto a caregiving role long before their mother died, when Laura Caldwell had barely been able to get out of bed from the effects of chemotherapy and radiation.
Kim had been the one who comforted Ryan, who hugged him even when he insisted he didn’t need to be hugged, who sat quietly without judgment when he cried.
Their father certainly hadn’t been there for his two grieving children.
Kim had held the fractured pieces of their family together. Now she was the one who sounded fractured.
“First of all, how is Diane?” he had asked her. Ryan actually liked his father’s second wife, whom the colonel had married about ten years earlier.
“Not good.” Kim’s voice hitched. “They were worried about internal injuries but didn’t find anything. Thank God. She has a broken arm and a broken leg. She’s having surgery this afternoon on her arm. She also needed about eighteen stitches in her face. I don’t know how she’ll ever be able to forgive me.”
