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“You don’t deserve it, Graham.” She hated how defeated he looked. “We, parents, screw up. Sometimes badly. Beating yourself up, over and over, for something we can’t change isn’t healthy.”
“Diana and I don’t have what you’d call a healthy relationship.” His gaze searched hers. “But, dammit, I want to change that if I can. Somehow. I’ve taken six weeks off and hoped, maybe, she and I could figure out how to be a family.”
“Good.” It sounded like a good way to start.
“I thought so. Until she mentioned her… stipulation.” He ran his fingers through his hair, agitated. “She wants you to go, too.” Those brown eyes were fixed on her then.
Felicity stared right back. “What?” It didn’t make any sense. At all.
“She thinks my promise of a vacation is a way to get her on the road, then I’ll detour to Serenity Heights and leave her.”
She hurt for Graham. And Diana. The two of them were in a place so loaded with anger and pain, she didn’t know how they’d make it through. But they had to—that was the only choice. That’s what families do—stick together. No matter what. “Oh, Graham.”
He sighed. “I don’t know if she thinks having you along will prevent me from dropping her there, or if she thinks you, your family, would make things easier for us. A buffer.”
“That’s her condition?” She walked to the window seat and sat, crossing her arms over her chest. Pecan and Praline jumped up, rubbing against her until she was absentmindedly stroking their soft golden fur.
“I told her I’d ask. I also told her you’d say no.” He shrugged, but she heard the hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ve done what I said I’d do.”
He was asking for her help. No, not just Graham. Diana, too.
His phone vibrated, immediately earning his full attention. “Excuse me,” he murmured and left the nursery, phone in hand. “Dr. Murphy—”
She sat, reeling but frozen. As much as she wanted to help Graham and Diana, the idea of bearing that sort of responsibility was terrifying. She couldn’t. Not with Nick… Jack’s arrival… Charity’s baby. The likely fallout when Pecan Valley, and her parents, found out about Charity’s baby. And Honor—she’d be off to college in no time.
“It’s too much,” she whispered to the cats, both of whom seemed to be intently listening—as long as she continued to pet them. “It is too much, right?”
Pecan mewed.
“Too bad I don’t speak cat,” she answered.
She glanced around the room. After the divorce, she’d spent hours making this house hers, from her dream kitchen to a tranquil bedroom retreat. But it was more than stone and brick, pretty decorations, and family mementos. This was a sanctuary—and not just for her. Her children, their friends, family, and more. Everyone was welcome. Her home was loud and chaotic and frequently messy because it was always full of people and conversation, laughter and companionship. And she was thankful for it.
Diana and Graham didn’t have that.
“They barely have each other,” she continued to her feline companions.
If Diana wanted Felicity’s family and all their noise and pandemonium in her life, it made sense. She’d had none of those things since her mother died. Graham was quiet and thoughtful. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to give his daughter what she needed. It was that he didn’t know how.
“No, six weeks. Yes. I’m looking forward to it.” Graham was still talking when he walked back into the nursery. “Thank you. You, too. And good luck with Mrs. Campos.” He smiled, hung up, and placed his phone on the dresser. When he looked at her, he was uneasy.
She tried to smile but failed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She held up her hand. “I get it, Graham. I would do anything for my kids. Anything.”
His brow cocked. “I tear Matt apart for being selfish, then ask you to be responsible for my family. The irony isn’t lost.” The edge in his voice was razor sharp.
“If things were different, I would say yes. I would. But, right now, I can’t.” She stood, hugging herself. “You’re trying to save the relationship you have with your daughter. Matt didn’t do that. Don’t compare yourself with him, Graham.” Her temper flared, just enough to add snap to her words. Graham Murphy was not Matt. He was hardworking. Loyal. Kind. A man who wanted to do the best for his child. A good man. A handsome one. A man who set a fire inside her and made her ache to remember what it felt like to be a woman. A man she’d bought lingerie for, for goodness’ sake.
None of which was relevant to what they we
re talking about right now…
“You okay?” He moved to her side. His concern—those big brown eyes searching hers—only added to her irritation.
She nodded. “Yes.”
