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I sighed contentedly and ran my hand through his hair, which was now even more messed up than usual. "Not that amazing," I remarked. "I feel like you did all the work."
He kissed me again. "That's what's great about you, Thetis. You don't even know when you're being amazing."
I felt a smile creeping over my face, and it had nothing to do with the compliments. Georgina. Thetis. The old, familiar nicknames. After the last time we'd had sex, some frightened part of me had worried I was in for a repeat and that he'd call me Letha again. But, no. That memory, that name . . . they were all gone, just like the person I used to be.
"I love you," I said, because it seemed the only adequate response.
"Mmm." He snuggled closer. "Let's not wait so long next time, okay?"
I laughed softly. "We're going to wait even longer. I don't think monthly sex is going to work if we ration for a lifetime. It's still too frequent."
He groaned. "Come on. I don't mind the risks. It's worth it. I could be content with biweekly sex. Tonight was proof you can't hold out very long either."
"Biweekly! That's definitely too frequent. You only got it tonight because I suddenly had a moment of crisis."
He chuckled, though it was soon lost in a yawn. "If I got sex every time you had 'a moment of crisis,' then I'd probably be getting it every night."
I gently elbowed him. "That's not true." I thought about it. "Much."
He laughed again and wrapped his arms around me, keeping us close. "Oh, Georgina. You make everything we go through worthwhile. Everything."
Chapter 11
It was hard leaving Seth's side in the morning. We'd had too few nights together recently, and each day that passed only served to remind me I was that much closer to the transfer. Lying in his arms, watching him sleep in the early sunlight, I thought back to what he'd said about Andrea getting better. If that was true, if she was healing, then there was a chance the ties keeping Seth here might lessen. I felt selfish even thinking that way, but surely it wasn't too terrible a thing to wish we could all get a happy ending.
After a leisurely breakfast, Seth and I went over to the Mortensens'. He was on babysitting duty while Andrea went to a doctor's appointment, and I was there to pick up Brandy. Chaos met us at the door, and Brandy practically flew outside, breathless and laughing.
"Don't go in there," she warned me, after I gave Seth a quick kiss good-bye. She and I headed toward my car. "It's crazy. Mom and Dad slept in, and Grandma let Kendall and the twins 'help' with breakfast."
"What are they making?"
"Waffles," she said. "From scratch. I don't know which was scarier: Kendall mixing the batter or Morgan and McKenna on duty with the waffle iron. They set the smoke detector off twice."
I couldn't help but laugh as I pulled out of the driveway. "And you and Kayla didn't help?"
"No way," Brandy replied. "I stayed away from that mess, and Kayla was in one of her silent moods today."
"Aw." I kind of wished now that I'd taken a moment to go inside. Tiny Kayla had a special place in my heart. Though she was better than she used to be, she still had a tendency to simply watch her world without a word, and it could be difficult coaxing conversation from her. Some of this was shyness, and some of this - I suspected - was from the fact that Kayla was psychic. Her skills were still undeveloped, but she was sensitive to the workings of the supernatural world, which I had to imagine would make anyone of any age silent at times.
"She'll be fine. She loves waffles." Brandy smiled, and I was happy to see her so upbeat for a change. She shouldered just as much stress as the adults. "If any actually get made."
We drove downtown, and I quizzed Brandy about what she was looking for in a dress. She had little to offer, which was both charming and kind of heartbreaking. Brandy wasn't a tomboy, but with all of her family drama, dresses had been understandably off her radar. In fact, when her face lit up at all the downtown lights and decorations, it became clear that family had really been the only thing in her life recently.
"I haven't seen any of the holiday stuff this year," she told me, gazing out the windows. A pang in my heart reminded me that this would be my last year to see Seattle in all its holiday finery. "We usually always come down here so that the girls can see Santa. There's been no time."
"The girls haven't seen Santa?" I asked, snapping out of my moment of self-pity. "That's not fair, especially considering I see a little too much of him." It made me wonder how many drinks it would take to coax Walter into a house call. It also convinced me more than ever to make this a special day for Brandy. I couldn't expect her not to worry about her mom, but today, with Andrea on the mend and Seattle's shopping wonderland ready to explore, Brandy was entitled to worry just a little less than usual. She deserved to think about herself.
I took her on a whirlwind tour of designer stores, chastising her for looking at price tags. I wanted this to be about more than the dress itself. I wanted her to have an experience, to feel like a princess. I made sure the salespeople were falling all over themselves to help her, which wasn't always so easy to do at such a busy time of the year. Brandy's radiant expression told me it was worth the effort, and we finally hit gold at our third store, finding what was unquestionably the dress. It was made of dark pink satin wrapped around to create a sheath silhouette that could still show off her figure without being p**n ographically tight. Satin flowers near the top added a whimsical edge, and the straps and knee-length made me feel it wouldn't get her kicked out of a church function. We spent the next hour finding the perfect shoes and jewelry for it, and although each new purchase clearly made her uneasy, she stopped questioning me about the cost. She didn't know about Margaret's funding, but it had long since been spent.
Exhausted and triumphant with our purchases, we went to lunch at an Italian restaurant frequented by other ladies of leisure. It was inside a larger, elegant shopping complex, and just as we were about to enter the restaurant, I saw a familiar face emerge from a nearby store. Something in my chest clenched, and I spoke before I could help myself.
"Doug!"
It took him a moment to figure out who'd called to him. When he did, a series of emotions played over his face. I wondered then how the encounter would have been different if Brandy hadn't been there. Would he have even acknowledged me? Maybe. Maybe not. But Brandy's presence guaranteed politeness. No matter how angry Doug might be at me, he wouldn't snub her.
"Kincaid," he said, strolling over to us. "And little Brandy. How's it going?"
"Good," she said cheerfully. The two of them, I realized, could have been related if Seth and Maddie had ended up getting married. The weird fallout from their breakup hadn't had as big an effect on Brandy as the rest of us, though, and she was genuinely happy to see him. "We're shopping."
He favored her with a smile, and I wondered if he was avoiding eye contact with me. "Last minute Christmas gifts?" he asked.
"Not a chance," I said. "This is all for Brandy. She's going to a dance tonight."
"Oh, I see how it is," he said. "Getting ready to break some hearts for the holidays, huh?"
She turned bright red. "No! It's at my church!"
Teasing girls was familiar and easy territory for Doug. "Yeah?" he said, forcibly keeping a straight face. "Then why are you blushing? Church boys' hearts break just as easily as us sinners', you know. I'm sure you'll leave a trail of hundreds in your wake."
"No," she protested. "Not hundreds - "
"Just one?" he asked slyly.
Brandy looked to me for help, and I laughed. "I knew there was someone."
"You guys are terrible," she said, though she didn't look that upset. "Can I go put our name on the list?"
"Sure," I said, still laughing. But the instant she was inside the restaurant, Doug's playful manner vanished.
"Well, I've got to go," he said, starting to turn away.
"Wait, Doug, I . . ." He looked back at me, but I was at a loss. What could I say? That I was sorry for sleeping with his sister's fiance? That I was sorry for lying to all of them and breaking her heart? How could you apologize for something like that? "It . . . it was good to see you," I said at last.
