Not a failure, but an accomplishment?
“Any man would be lucky to have you,” Teri said firmly. “And I bet Cal thinks the same thing.”
That was going a step too far. “You can’t speak for him,” Lillian reminded her. “Only for you. But I’m—grateful to hear that from you. Thank you for telling me that.”
Though Cal had said the same thing, about living with her mother. He’d almost seemed to admire her for it.
Teri gave her a tiny smile. “I always looked up to you, you know. That’s never changed.”
Lillian blinked back a sudden prickling of tears. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think it might be my turn to look up to you.”
Teri hugged her. Lillian hugged her back, and thought that if nothing else, she had to be grateful to Lew for helping her find a relationship with her sister again.
Howev
er inadvertently.
The hug lasted a long time, but was eventually broken up by a knock at the door. Teri sprang away to answer it, and Lillian was struck by how much energy her sister had. She’d always been like that, especially as a kid, but then the car accident had stolen it from her for a while. Lillian remembered how painful it had been to watch Teri exhaust herself just by walking a few steps.
She’d ended up feeling overprotective. And she realized that that had been a mistake. But now, she was so happy to see Teri bounding around the room again, like she’d never met a physical challenge she couldn’t face.
It was Cal at the door, of course. Teri let him in, and Lillian tensed up all over—and still wasn’t prepared for the way she felt at the sight of him. He seemed to fill the whole room, so tall and broad, radiating concern and protectiveness. Warmth flushed through her. She wanted to run to him and let herself be caught up in his arms—
No. If nothing else, Teri was right there. And they had bigger concerns at the moment than whatever attraction she was feeling for this man.
“What’s this about the mountain lions threatening you?” Cal asked, striding immediately over to her side. He was close enough to touch, which was not helping her resolve at all.
So Lillian focused on the situation. She recounted the phone call once again. This time, she mentioned how the mountain lion had said that the snow leopards weren’t enough of a power to stop them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Teri’s eyes narrowing.
“If he’d actually broken your window, we’d be going to the police,” Cal said grimly. “As it is, I don’t think there’s enough evidence for them to do anything to anybody yet. But—I’m sorry, Lillian, I don’t think you should drive anywhere alone again, until this is all resolved.”
Lillian nodded. “I agree. I’m not so reckless as to want to put myself in danger, I promise. I honestly thought that I’d be completely fine if I was in my car.”
“And you were, because you were smart,” Teri put in. Cal turned to her, and she said, “The guy tried the whole, ‘oh no, my car broke down and my cell phone’s dead’ trick on her, but she didn’t fall for it.”
Pride was evident in her voice. Lillian felt strange, hearing it. It was so long since anyone had been genuinely proud of her.
Cal had turned back to her. “Of course she didn’t,” he said warmly.
That was somehow even better—the expectation of competence.
Maybe Cal’s opinion of her hadn’t taken as much of a hit as she’d thought it would, after this afternoon.
“Hey, so,” Teri said, and Lillian was alerted by the note in her voice, which she recognized from when Teri was a teenager—it was the I’m up to something voice. “I’m going to go call Zach and get him up to speed on what’s going on, okay? And you guys should talk. About—shifter stuff.”
Lillian narrowed her eyes at Teri, and Cal turned to look at her. “Shifter stuff,” he echoed flatly.
“Yes!” Teri said. She motioned back and forth between them. “Shifter...things. That might be happening. Right now. With you. Okay, I’m calling Zach, bye.” She disappeared off to another part of the house.
Cal turned back to Lillian. “That sounded suspicious.”
“It was.” Lillian sighed. “I have to apologize. I told her about—what happened this afternoon.”
Cal’s face did something complicated.
“I know that you’d probably rather your employees didn’t know about your private life,” Lillian rushed forward. She was realizing for the first time that she’d put Cal into an awkward position by telling Teri. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Cal said slowly. “No, she’s your sister. You shouldn’t have to hesitate over telling your sister something personal. But now I think I know what she might’ve meant about...shifter stuff.”