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“Yeah, right.” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Let’s not go that far.”
“Just calling it like I see it.” Lindy snuggles her cheek against the ball of fur, whispering to Angel. “I missed you so much. You did such a good job taking care of Grandpa Dante on the plane.”
Grandpa.
The word of endearment strikes something in my chest, making it go tight. So used to pushing my emotions down, I can’t tell if it’s angst or longing that I’m experiencing.
Maybe both.
Totally unaware she’s said something that’s affected me, she goes about her reunion, sitting on the bed to re-bond with her cat.
I clear my throat, staring at her. “You and I will stay here. My dad will be moving in a few doors down. There’s an open townhouse for him and his nurse. Dolores will sleep in his guest room.” I’m torn, wanting to stay with both my father and Lindy, but there’s no way I would be able to sleep, leaving Lindy alone at my place, not being the one to protect her.
She looks up. “No.” She shakes her head. “No way.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Not after what he’s been through. He needs to be with you. How big is this place? Three thousand square feet, easily. There’s plenty of room here.” Her hand sweeps through the air, as if proving her point. “He needs to stay with us. He sleeps in your guestroom. His nurse can sleep in the office. We can have it set up as a bedroom.”
“And where will I sleep? I assumed I’d be downstairs, and you’d be up here,” I say.
“We’re grownups. Heck”—she holds up her hand, her ring catching the light— “we’re engaged, for goodness’ sake. We can share a room. Then, not only will he have all of us around him for support, but his nurse will be on the same floor as him. It’s safer. All around better.”
I think over her plan, momentarily stunned by her generosity. Most women need to carve out their own space and would shudder at the thought of sharing a home with their in-laws.
Well, Dad isn’t technically her father-in-law…
Maybe one day.
I push the thought down with all the other emotions I can’t seem to process.
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” I ask.
“Yes. Of course. And I’d love to help. I have to say,” she adds with a sheepish blush, “I do owe you after what I’ve put you through.”
I let her last comment go without a response. I don’t even like thinking of the time before she became my stowaway. We’ll need more furniture. And Lindy might want some more things to make her feel at home.
I slip my black Amex credit card from my wallet, handing it to her. “Buy whatever you need. For yourself, for the house. And let me know when you get the furniture in for the bedroom conversion. I’ll have some brothers come move things around for you.”
“Okay. I’ll keep it modest.” She stands, cat in one arm, and slips the card into her back pocket.
I think of the few, simple items she bought from Bergdorf at the Mark Hotel when I gave her free rein.
What did she get?
A blanket, pillow, and a modest handful of clothes.
“Spend whatever you’d like,” I say. “Seriously.”
She gives me a pointed look. “I’ll make sure everyone is cozy and has what they need, but I’ll make the cost reasonable. Okay? And please… have Dolores stop by or give me a call on your landline for a chat. I need to know if there’s any medical equipment I need to order, or anything I can get to make her or your dad more comfortable.”
“Will do.” I stare at her in awe.
She’s been in my house less than an hour and she’s already running the place.
Having her here, taking over the management of the home, my father’s comfort, it’s… nice. Really nice. Her feminine touch is already softening the energy around the townhouse.
What about her other stuff, the belongings she had in the before times?
