Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Morgan hadn’t told his sister what time he was getting to town.
He didn’t want her to come pick him up at the airport.
Not because he wasn’t excited to see her, but because he had a special stop to make first. He was ninety percent sure he’d convinced his sister he wasn’t going to go through with his dramatic Christmas present, which made it all the more satisfying.
When he parked in her driveway three hours after his arrival, driving a brand-new Porsche Macan, he got out of the car and had just enough time to close the door before his niece, Nicki, threw herself into his arms with a squeal of joy.
“Uncle Morgan!” He wrapped his arms around her waist and spun once, just to keep her laughing. “You’re finally here! Finally!”
He set her down, feeling the confused look on his face. “I told your mama I was arriving today.”
“Yes, and now it’s almost dinner time,” Katie said from where she stood in the doorway, hands on hips.
Katie wasn’t prone to dramatic gestures, but she must have gone through a seminar on power poses at some point because you didn’t need to know what she was saying to understand exactly how she felt. “We’ve been expecting you since lunch.”
Okay, maybe he could have done a better job of giving her the details. “Sorry about that,” Morgan said with a smile as he grabbed his bag out of the back seat. “I had to go pick up your car.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
He tossed the keys to her, enjoying the way she fumbled them in the air. “Merry Christmas.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am completely serious,” he said.
“But Morgan—”
“How can this be a surprise to you?” he asked, happy in the knowledge that it was, in fact, a surprise to her. “I said I was going to do it, and I did it.”
“I guess you did,” Katie said, her eyes darting between him and the car, like she still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Pleasure warred with the need to assert her independence.
She never wanted to be seen as using him for his money.
Had been very specific, in fact, about not taking as much as he wanted to give her.
“Just go with it,” Morgan said under his breath. “It would mean a lot to me.”
“Mommy, is this our car?” Nicki’s voice broke their stalemate, and Katie sighed.
“Yeah, baby,” she replied, “that’s our new car.”
“Really?” Her childish voice hit an octave that made Morgan wince as his niece barreled into him once more, squeezing with all the strength she had in her skinny arms. It was more than he’d expected, honestly. Tennis really had been good for her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Morgan said, squeezing her one more time. “We can go on a ride in it soon, huh? Make sure your mom knows how to drive it.”
“Knows how to drive it,” Katie muttered under her breath as she ushered him through the front door of the house. “I’ll show you who knows how to drive it. Who taught you how to drive a car in the first place, huh?”
“You,” Morgan said affably. It was true.
He and Katie had been their own unit from an early age, her taking on the role of teacher and sometimes protector, him being a source of unconditional love and companionship.
Neither of them had seen their father since they were teenagers, and their mother’s choices and partners over the years had left a lot to be desired.
Katie had escaped with the advent of her marriage, and Morgan had escaped to college and to the business world.
And now here they were, fifteen years later, both of them having left those things behind. They still had each other, though. And Nicki, who was grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the stairs.
“Come on, Uncle Morgan. I’ll show you where your room is.”
“I remember where the guest room is,” Morgan said as he slipped off his shoes.
“No, I’m talking about your room,” Nicky insisted.
Morgan glanced at his sister. “What?”
“We tailored the guest room to your tastes a little bit,” Katie said, not looking up from where she was stirring spaghetti sauce on the stove. “Just to make it more comfortable for you.”
Huh. Morgan had the sneaking suspicion he was missing something important here. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” his sister said. “Why don’t you go look at it?”
“Okay.” Morgan let Nicki pull him up the stairs and to the second room on the right.
The guest room had once been where her ex-husband kept all of his music gear.
Every trace of him had been eradicated after the divorce, though.
The last Morgan had been there, it had been furnished with a single bed, a chest of drawers, and a table with a lamp on it.
Now Morgan’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the room.
It felt cozy in a way it hadn’t before, with a thick blue comforter on the queen-size bed and a recliner in the corner that had its own floor lamp.
The walls had been painted sage green, his favorite color.
There was a bookshelf full of the books he’d left behind at home when he went away to college, and the pictures on the dresser were of family.
One showed Nicki in his arms, beaming a gap-toothed grin as they smiled for the camera.
Another was of him and Katie, their mouths open with laughter as they sat on the porch of his San Francisco apartment.
Bentley had taken that one. Morgan had had his own copy of it, but that was one more thing he’d left behind in his rush to get out.
“Do you like it?” Nicki asked, breaking the silence.
Morgan cleared his throat. “I love it,” he said. “It looks amazing. Did you help your mom with this?”
“I did, I picked the paint.” Nicki launched into a detailed explanation of painting the walls, emphasizing how careful they had been, how very little paint she’d spilled, and how her mom had been able to get it out of her hair anyway, so it didn’t count as making a mess.
As she rambled, the weight of the emotions he felt lifted a little.
By the time the pair of them went back down to dinner, Morgan was able to hug his sister and thank her without tears in his eyes.
“You’re the best,” he told her.
“And you’re always welcome,” Katie replied, patting him on the back. “I want you to know that. We want you here.”
A part of Morgan wanted to promise to be here, to turn his stay into a longer one. If he’d been as alone on Parrish Island as he’d thought he would be, his sister’s offer would probably be impossible to resist despite the proximity to the rest of his family. But now …
“I’ll never be able to follow you.”
“Thank you,” he said again, unable to commit to more than that. “I love you guys.”
“Hmm, I know,” his sister said, an assessing look in her eye. “Come on, let’s eat.”
The food was simple but plentiful, and the conversation flowed easily between the three of them.
When he asked about where they were spending Christmas Day the next day, Katie said, “It’ll be at Mom’s place.
I know, I know, I tried to have it here, but she insisted.
She’s dying to host us all, and her newest boyfriend’s actually got a big-enough space for it, so. ” She shrugged.
“Great.” Morgan didn’t feel very great about it, but there wasn’t much else he could say under the circumstances. “What do we need to bring?”
“Nothing but ourselves, according to Mom,” Katie replied sarcastically. “Which means two sides, an appetizer, and a bottle of wine at the very least.”
“Got it,” Morgan said. “Do we need to go to the store?”
“Oh no, I’ve got it taken care of already. The ingredients are prepped,” Katie said. “It’ll be easy to put it all together in the morning. How long are you staying, again?”
“Through Sunday,” Morgan said, trying not to feel like he was being put on the spot.
“Not even a full week?”
He shook his head. “No. I, uh, I need to get back.”
Katie arched one eyebrow. “Do you really need to get back so early?”
“I do have things to do, you know,” Morgan replied a bit awkwardly. “I’m not just lazing around on Parrish Island like a bum.” Although he kind of was these days, especially now that his shoulder was better. But Parrish Island was where Ty was, and Ty was all alone right now.
“Okay.” Katie held up her hands. “Whatever you want. I’m not going to push.”
“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “You know I appreciate that.”
She sighed. “I know. Come on, Nickster,” she continued, looking at her daughter, who was staring between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match. “Go put your plate in the sink and then get ready for bed; it’s late.”
“But Mom!” Nicki immediately whined. “It’s a vacation day; I want to stay up late. I want to watch a movie.” She batted her eyes at Morgan. “Do you want to watch the new KPop Demon Hunters with me?”
“The what?”
“KPop Demon Hunters can wait until tomorrow, honey,” Katie said firmly, getting to her feet. “Come on now, to bed with you.”
“Mooooom!” She did as she was told, though, and was sound asleep in her bed by nine o’clock. Katie and Morgan met in the kitchen, where Katie poured them a glass from the bottle of wine she had in the fridge. They toasted in silence, then took a sip.
“You really like it there, huh?” she said after a moment.
It was the line of questioning he’d been waiting for. “I do, yeah. A lot more than I thought I would.”
She nodded. “And you like Ty, too.”
Morgan knew he was blushing, but he rolled with it. “I really do. He’s …” He smiled a little helplessly. “He’s great. He’s been very welcoming to me, and helpful, and he’s—”
“A guy who’s got to have at least fifty years on you.”
Oh, he hadn’t cleared that up with her? “No,” Morgan said. “That’s the previous generation.” Or close enough. He pulled out his phone and opened the gallery. “This is Ty.” He turned it so she could see.
Katie choked on her next sip of wine. “That’s Ty? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Nope.”
“He’s hot.”
Morgan grinned smugly. “I know.”
“Holy shit. What’s he doing for the holidays?”