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“But you live in the same town as him. It seems silly to ignore your own father.” Katie was nothing if not dogged.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Tiffany retorted. “He never was my father. It takes more than getting someone pregnant to earn that title.” She glanced out the window, then added, “Maybe that’s a selfish way to look at it, but too bad. As for John Cawthorne’s wedding—what’s that all about? Brynnie’s said those supposedly sacred words more times than anyone should. I think they should run off and elope. Have some kind of reception when they get back.” Hearing herself, she rolled her eyes. “Like I care.”
“You might more than you want to admit,” Katie ventured.
Before Tiffany could answer, the front door flew open. Thud! The doorknob banged hard against the wall.
“Stephen?” Tiffany was on her feet in an instant.
“Yeah?” a voice cracked, and in the foyer a boy in his early teens appeared. His hair was black and shaggy, his brown eyes filled with distrust. Every visible muscle appeared tense, as if he expected to make a run for it at any moment. He would be handsome in a few years, Bliss supposed, when his jaw had become more defined and his face had caught up with his nose.
“I think you’d better meet someone,” Tiffany said, taking his tense arm and propelling him into the parlor. “This is Bliss Cawthorne. John’s daughter.”
His eyes narrowed. “Another one? Cawthorne? You mean ‘the princess’—”
“Actually, she’s my half sister,” Tiffany said quickly, as if to cut off whatever derogatory comment he was about to make. “She’s lived in Seattle with John and his wife.”
The princess. The second time she’d heard it in a few minutes. So that was what they’d called her behind her back, what they really thought. Why had she so stupidly agreed to come here? Because Katie had practically shanghaied her, that was why.
Stephen’s gaze was positively condemning. “Oh.” He didn’t say anything for a few long seconds, but Bliss was instantly embarrassed that she was the legitimate daughter, the one who bore her father’s name, the odd woman out, so to speak. “Well, aren’t you the lucky one?” he finally whispered, sarcasm lacing his words. “What do you want from—”
“Don’t, okay? Just don’t say it,” Tiffany warned.
Tossing a hank of black hair out of his eyes, Stephen shifted from one dirty sneaker to the other. “So, can I go now?”
“May I, but sure.”
Bliss could almost feel the boy’s relief.
Tiffany let go of his arm. As he bounded up the stairs two at a time, he didn’t give his mother or her guests so much as a backward glance.
“I think it’s time I got back,” Bliss said, standing. She saw a movement through the window and spied Dee Dee, Mason’s daughter, sitting in a patio chair. Wearing cutoff jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt, she lazed, one foot resting on the opposite bare knee as she flipped through a magazine and petted a black cat that was curled up in her lap.
The girl seemed pensive and slightly sad, Bliss thought.
Glancing at her watch, Katie scowled, tiny lines forming across her forehead. “Oops. You’re right. I’ve got to scoot and pick up Josh from his friend’s house so that I can get him to baseball practice. Well, uh, gee, I really don’t know what to say, except maybe thanks for letting us come by and bend your ear,” she said to Tiffany.
“No problem.” Tiffany walked to the door but didn’t ask them to return as they stepped onto the porch. “And just for the record, tell your father that if he wants to talk to me, he can call himself or stop by—not that I have any interest in dealing with him. But I think it was underhanded to send you two.”
“It wasn’t his idea,” Katie assured her. “It was mine.”
Tiffany didn’t reply, just arched a disbelieving brow as she closed the door.
“Boy, that was a good idea,” Bliss mocked.
“What do you mean? I think it went well, all things considered.” Together, Katie and Bliss walked beneath the shade trees and around the corner of the main house, where Bliss caught another glimpse of Mason’s daughter.
“Are you kidding?” Bliss couldn’t believe her ears and decided right then and there that Katie Kinkaid was an eternal and somewhat-myopic optimist.
“I suspect that deep down she likes you,” Katie added.
“Oh, right.”
“I mean it.”
“Then I’d hate to see how she treats an enemy.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Katie slid a pair of sunglasses onto her short nose. “If there is a problem, and, for the record, I don’t think there is, you’ll win her over. It’ll just take time.” She opened the car door, but Bliss hesitated.
