CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY
Bree woke late the next morning, still nauseated and exhausted. Matt snored beside her. She eased out of bed, extracting her leg from under Ladybug’s head. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face.
She opened the closet in search of a towel. She was behind on laundry and down to the last one. She spied a pregnancy test in the back. Must have belonged to her sister. She pulled it out. Not expired.
Nausea rolled through her. Could she be pregnant? Seemed unlikely, but the nausea ...
There was one way to find out for sure.
A few minutes later, she stared at the little window. Not pregnant.
Matt knocked on the door. “Everything all right in there?”
She opened the door.
His eyes widened at the sight of the pregnancy test. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. It’s negative.”
“I wasn’t worried.” His head tilted. “And I wouldn’t be upset. Surprised, but not upset. Are you relieved?”
“Yes. Maybe?” Bree wasn’t sure. “I feel like I’m already stretched so thin, between work and taking care of Luke and Kayla.” If she did get pregnant, work would have to go. She knew that deep in her soul. There wasn’t enough inside her to split off another piece. She wouldn’t half-ass raising a newborn or her job. Both were too important.
But ... the thought of a little Viking running around made her smile.
She tossed the test in the trash can. The timing wasn’t right. Would it ever be? She glanced at Matt. Someday, she’d marry him. They hadn’t discussed it, but she knew anyway. When the time was right.
Matt slung an arm around her shoulder. “Come back to bed. You might feel significantly better if you got more than three hours of sleep.”
“This is true, but I really want to see the kids.”
Matt reached into the shower and turned on the spray. “Breakfast at my parents’ house it is.”
They showered, dressed, and went down to the kitchen. Dana had left a note. She and Nolan were out running errands. Bree wrote a note back. Adam had taken care of the horses early. So, Matt and Bree loaded both dogs into the Suburban and drove to his parents’ house.
Matt’s mom greeted them with coffee and pancakes. “The kids are feeling great this morning. They went with George to get doughnuts.”
Matt scarfed down a plate of pancakes. Ladybug barked to go out. Matt stood. “I’ll take her.”
Bree picked at her food. For the first time—probably ever—she couldn’t stomach coffee.
“Is something bothering you?” Anna lifted one hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Emotions bubbled out of Bree’s mouth with zero control. “I feel like the worst parent this week, leaving them when they were sick. I don’t know what I’m doing. I want to be available for the kids whenever they need me, but my job demands a lot of time.”
Anna patted her hand. “Bree, the kids don’t expect you to be here 24/7. That’s not realistic, and frankly, that wouldn’t be healthy for them or you. George and I both worked a lot of hours when the kids were young. They got juggled, but they still knew they were loved. They also learned to be independent. That’s a good thing.”
Bree looked up. “I don’t understand.”
“Before their mother’s death, the kids relied on her to meet almost all their needs, right?”
“Yes, Erin was a great mom.”
“I’m sure she was. It shows in the great kids she raised.” Anna smiled. “But when she died, they were left alone, with no one else to whom they were close enough to immediately rely on.”
“Some of that is my fault.” Guilt smothered Bree. “I should have spent more time with them. I avoided Grey’s Hollow. I should have been that person. I should have been close to them for their entire lives. I was selfish.”
Anna squeezed Bree’s forearm. “You were not selfish. You were eight when your parents died?”
Bree nodded. “Adam and Erin went to my grandparents. They were old, and I was too difficult to handle.” Bitterness rose in her mouth, a sour mixture of regret and anger. “My cousin in Philly took over. She wasn’t a warm or social person, but she did her best. She made sure I had counseling and a great education.” Now Bree felt guilty for being ungrateful. “I’m not complaining. She had no experience with kids, and she stepped up. I don’t know what would have happened to me if she hadn’t.”
Anna’s eyes went fierce. “First of all, you were not difficult. You were traumatized.”
“That’s exactly what Matt said.”
“It takes more than counseling to heal. A child needs to feel secure and loved to express themselves to work through the pain. Children are amazingly resilient, though, and you found a way through. You survived.” Her mouth turned up at one corner. “But now you’re learning to thrive. There’s a difference.”
“That’s what I want for Kayla and Luke. They need to do more than survive.”
“They are.”
“Since I moved back here, I feel like the Grinch when his heart grew three times.”
Anna laughed. “You’re going to be all right, and so will Luke and Kayla. They have you, Adam, and Dana. Now they also have Matt and all of the Flynns.”
“I can’t thank you enough for accepting us all into your family.” Bree had never imagined having so many people in her life. Their generosity was almost overwhelming at times.
“And I can’t thank you enough for loving my son. For a long time, we worried he’d never be happy. You never stop worrying, you know, no matter how old they get. Matt lost more than a career when he was shot. He lost his community. He lost his support system. You’ve helped him build a new one.”
To make matters worse, Matt had been betrayed by some of those in his support system, but Bree wasn’t sure Anna knew all the details, so she said nothing.
Anna got up and refilled her coffee cup. “I believe it’s best for kids to have a community of support. Not everyone has a big family, but they can make friends, establish connections in other ways. Blood is not always thicker. Family is more about who you can depend on, rather than who shares your DNA.”
Bree thought of the kids’ useless, selfish biological father, and her own violent one. “That is very true.”
“With the cliché village theory, kids have multiple sources of comfort and advice. Many places to turn for help. People who have varying expertise to contribute.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“Do you think it’s more reassuring to have one person meeting their needs or a half dozen?”
“You’re right,” Bree said. “And thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome. I am always here for any of my kids.” Anna patted her hand.
My kids.Anna had virtually adopted Bree too.
Bree’s eyes went hot with unshed tears, and she wondered how different her life would have been if she’d had someone like Anna in her childhood. But there was no use in looking back. Her job was to make sure that Luke’s and Kayla’s lives were better than hers had been. Having the Flynns around eased Bree’s mind considerably. She didn’t want to be the only person in their world. Anna was right. That measure of dependence wasn’t healthy.
Also, Bree could appreciate Anna’s presence in her own life now. Bree still had plenty of growing and learning to do. Clearly.
The door opened. Matt came in with the dogs. They were followed by George and the kids.
Kayla ran to Bree and hugged her hard. The little girl wore pajamas, a coat, and rain boots. Luke hugged Bree next. Both kids looked recovered. Both dug into the bag of doughnuts.
Matt plucked out a Boston cream.
Cady walked into the kitchen. She sat down at the table. Her mother brought her a cup of tea and smiled a little too broadly. The door opened again, this time admitting Todd. He sat next to Cady at the big table.
“We have some news.” Cady took his hand. “I’m pregnant.”
Surprised, Bree felt the pressure of happy tears. She’d never been around this many pregnant women. It felt a bit strange, almost like she was a different species. Until she’d taken that pregnancy test, she’d never thought about being pregnant. But now ... She put it out of her mind. This was not the time.
George and Anna shared a look.
“We knew,” Anna said.
Thatdidn’t surprise Bree at all.
Cady sighed. “Of course you did.”
“Congratulations to both of you.” George beamed. “We’ll have a proper celebration when everyone is well.” He took Bree’s hand and examined her bandage. “I’ll change this for you before you leave.”
Bree didn’t argue.
He frowned and placed a palm on her forehead. “You have a fever.”
Bree almost smacked herself on the head. She had the stupid flu. That’s why she was nauseated.
She let George herd her to the couch. Someone turned on the TV. Someone else brought her tea and a blanket. She rested her head on the sofa and let everyone else take care of her for a change.