Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
HAYDEN
The function room smells like roasted chicken, warm bread, and too much perfume.
It’s the same private room at Matteo’s where we gathered a year ago after Cora’s funeral.
The same circular tables draped in white linen.
The same fluorescent lighting that felt like it was shining a light on all my inadequacies.
The same framed photograph of Cora propped near the entrance, her smile soft and familiar.
I linger in the corner, playing the part of the grieving husband like I have been for the past year when a pair of blue eyes lock on mine from across the room, a spark of something blooming in my chest.
Just like happens every time I’ve stolen a glance at Rowan over the past few hours.
She sits at a round table near the windows with my mom and Dylan, the three of them bent toward Presley and Jemmy like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Presley’s smiling at something Rowan says, her hands moving animatedly as she signs.
Jemmy babbles incessantly, like he’s contributing meaningfully to the conversation.
The entire scene seems so…normal. Rowan doesn’t look out of place with my family.
She looks like she belongs.
“Thought you could use this.”
A bottle appears in front of me, and I glance up to see my brother, Jude, sidling up beside me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the beer from him. Of course, it’s from his brewery.
I can’t help but envy him. Envy all my siblings for having careers they love.
My brother, Beckham, is now the owner of a popular local vineyard. The expertise he has in cultivating grapes and turning them into wine is nothing short of remarkable.
Jude went to college for a bit but dropped out to pursue his passion…brewing beer. And his beer is now sold all over the country.
Finn is a lieutenant on the fire department, something he always dreamed of doing when he was a little boy.
Even my youngest sibling, Dylan, is chasing her dreams, having just started a private chef business with her friend from culinary school.
And then there’s me… Working with my father-in-law at a small-town family medical practice.
It’s a far cry from the emergency room at the busy Chicago hospital where I worked a year ago.
I take a long sip of beer, not realizing how much I needed it until the tension in my shoulders loosens a fraction. I can only imagine what Robert would say about me enjoying a drink during Cora’s memorial.
Right now, I don’t care.
“How are you holding up?” Jude asks, his voice filled with sincerity.
“Okay. All things considered.”
“Good.”
“I appreciate you being here. I know you’d probably rather be anywhere else. Hell, I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Even getting a root canal?” Jude retorts, tipping back his bottle.
“Definitely. At least there’s Novocain involved. And if you really need it, laughing gas.”
“How about doing your taxes?”
“Absolutely,” I answer without a moment’s hesitation. “And I’ll raise you doing them by hand with no internet.”
“Damn…” Jude exhales, chuckling under his breath. “How about a talent show on a cruise?”
I cringe. “Okay. That one might actually be worse than this.”
“See? It’s all about perspective.” Jude bumps my shoulder lightly. “For what it’s worth, I’m happy to be here for you. Even if I’d also prefer the root canal.”
I give him a smile, grateful to have the family I do.
Because of the large age gap between me and the rest of my siblings, I’ve always felt a little removed from them. I was packing for college when they were still in elementary school, so I never had a bond with any of them. Since moving back, that’s changed. We’ve grown closer.
One of the few silver linings I never asked for.
I continue sipping my beer as I survey the room. I recognize almost everyone. Employees of the medical clinic. Longtime family friends. Members of Robert’s church who never liked me much to begin with.
But as always seems to be the case today, my gaze snags on Rowan, a smile curving on my lips when I watch her play peek-a-boo with Jemmy.
I was somewhat surprised when she walked back into the church with Presley less than ten minutes after I left them. And throughout the service, Presley seemed…okay. She and Rowan kept exchanging looks, as if they were sharing an inside joke only they were privy to.
I didn’t care as long as Presley was happy.
And she is. I figured today would be like the funeral all over again.
Or any of the other memorial services Robert has planned for Cora.
Presley would spend the day with her face buried in her sketchpad, ignoring everyone until it was time to go home, at which point she’d lock herself in her room.
Instead, she seems happy. Or, as happy as she can be. Whatever Rowan said must have worked.
“Looks like your new nanny’s working out pretty well,” Jude remarks after a beat.
“Yeah. She’s…great.” I lift the bottle to my lips, taking a sip to hide the smile that sneaks up on me as I watch her.
“That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.”
I dart my eyes toward him. “What?”
“You. Happy.”
The word makes me uneasy. There’s still a part of me that doesn’t think I deserve happiness.
But there’s another part that can’t deny I’ve had more moments of happiness over the past several weeks than I have all year.
And every one of them involves Rowan.
“Is there something going on between you and the nanny?” Jude asks in a low voice.
“What?” I tear my gaze toward him so fast it’s a wonder I don’t give myself whiplash. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure?” He raises a single disbelieving brow.
“She’s my employee. And she’s thirteen years younger than me.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps looking at me with that same skeptical look. As if he knows I’m full of shit.
“I mean, do I think she’s attractive? You’d have to be blind not to. But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“What would you say if Dylan started seeing a guy my age?”
“She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions.” He shrugs, as if he’s never put the fear of God into any of the unlucky bastards Dylan tried to date.
Which he has.
“Age is just a number anyway,” he adds casually.
“I just lost my wife.”
“A year ago.”
I swallow hard, remaining silent.
“Granted, Robert would prefer you remain faithful to Cora for the rest of your life,” he remarks.
“You’re not wrong about that,” I mutter, my gaze flicking to where my father-in-law stands across the room, his posture rigid, expression perpetually displeased.
“But is that what you want? Is that what Cora would want for you?”
I groan, taking another swallow of the beer. “You sound like Mom.”
“As much as I hate to admit this, she’s right. Do you really want to keep going on like this?”
“It’s…hard,” I admit, my shoulders sagging.
“I get it.” His expression softens. “After Krista and I lost the baby, I didn’t think I’d ever open my heart again. Didn’t want to. Kept everyone out. Told myself it was safer that way. And then Abbey walked into my bar wearing a wedding dress.”
A smile curves his mouth. He looks so different from the man he was less than a year ago. He was cynical. Bitter. Closed off.
Sort of like I am now.
“Some people just…get in,” Jude continues. “Whether you want them to or not. I’ve learned that you can try to keep people out all you want, but there are some people who’ll weasel their way in regardless. And when that happens, there’s no fighting it.”
With every word Jude speaks, I can’t help but think of Rowan.
How she weaseled her way into my life so effortlessly.
How I think of her more than I should.
How I crave her presence to the point that I eagerly accepted her offer to come today.
I told myself it was to help with the kids. And while she definitely has, the real reason I wanted her here is for me.
“I just… I’m not ready,” I say, averting my gaze. “It’s too soon.”
Jude tilts his head. “Are you saying that because it’s true… Or because you don’t think you’re allowed to move on?”
I part my lips to remind him yet again that it’s only been a year since I’ve buried my wife. But why do I think it’s too soon? Because I truly believe it? Or because I feel like I’m dishonoring her memory by opening myself up to the possibility of someone new?
As if able to read my thoughts, Robert heads my way, seemingly on a mission.
Jude notices it, too.
“Something to think about,” he says before stepping away, leaving me to deal with my father-in-law on my own.
“As if it’s not bad enough you brought another woman to your wife’s memorial, you’re also drinking, too?” he snips out.
I pinch my lips into a tight line, swallowing down what I really want to say. I have to remember this is my kids’ grandfather. And Cora’s dad. She may not have had the best relationship with him for reasons I now understand, but he’s still family.
“Rowan is the kids’ nanny.” I keep my voice as even as possible. “Nothing more.”
“The people at the church don’t know that. They see you walk in with an attractive young woman like that, one who your kids seem to adore and who’s been living with you, and what other conclusion would they draw?”
“The correct one,” I snap. “My kids adore her because she’s a good nanny. And she lives in the in-law apartment in my house so I can handle any emergency calls that come in. If your friends draw the wrong conclusion, that’s on them. Not me.”
His eyes narrow. “And the sign language?”
My jaw ticks. Of course he’d bring that up.
“I told you it was a bad idea,” he continues. “You’re encouraging this…behavior.”
“Behavior?” I scoff. “She’s a child who experienced trauma.”
For someone who’s made a career out of supposedly helping people, he’s always been narrow minded.
Then again, Robert’s from a different generation and mindset.
He became a doctor because of the prestige attached to it.
Unlike me, who worked my ass off to become a doctor because the perpetual idealist in me wanted to help people.
I still do.
“She needs to get over it,” he says dismissively.
I find it amusing that the same man who’d have me remain celibate and grieve Cora for the rest of my life is the same man telling me that my daughter should get over losing her mother.
But Robert’s always been a hypocrite.
“If she feels more comfortable communicating with sign language right now, I’m happy to support it. My priority is talking to my child, not dictating how she does it. To me, that’s the most important thing, regardless of whether she uses her voice or not. She will eventually.”
“Not if you keep giving her a reason not to,” he sneers as he walks off.
I drain the rest of my beer, my chest tight with resentment.
I’ve spent years trying to prove myself to this man. And somehow, he still makes me feel like the teenage boy who wanted nothing more than to date his daughter.
But then I look across the room, my eyes landing on Presley.
She’s smiling. Bright. Warm. Full of life.
Screw what Robert thinks.
Presley’s happy for the first time in a year.
And maybe I finally am, too.