She lay staring at the ceiling, unable to read or sleep.
When she heard Madi’s first whine she was out of bed in an instant, hoping to reach her before she woke Ethan.
Downstairs, she found Madi whining and miserable.
“What’s wrong?” She knelt by the crate and then saw one of Madi’s toys halfway across the kitchen floor. “Did you lose your toy? Why aren’t you sleeping?” She retrieved the toy and waited while Madi settled down. “Are you missing Debra? It’s difficult when family go away and leave you, I know. You and I have a lot in common. We’re both getting used to new circumstances. It isn’t easy.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it easier?” Ethan’s voice came from behind her and she scrambled to her feet, horribly conscious that she hadn’t bothered to grab a robe when she’d heard Madi whine. She was wearing her pajamas with the butterflies.
Fliss would have rolled her eyes and called it a missed opportunity.
“I’m sorry she woke you.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I was working on my research paper.”
“At midnight?”
“It’s the time I do my best thinking. Did she wake you?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep.”
“And that’s my fault.” He spoke softly, presumably so that they didn’t disturb Madi. “I’m the one who asked the tactless question. I’m sorry.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve apologized to you more in the last forty-eight hours than I ever have in my life before.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.” She wondered if the pajamas turned transparent with the light behind them. Hopefully not. After the dinner episode, he’d probably think she was trying to seduce him. “It’s not your fault that my father is a touchy subject. I need to deal with it better. That’s on me, not you. The truth is my father and I don’t have a great relationship.” It had to be the understatement of the century. “In fact we have no relationship. And that doesn’t quite fit with how I think families should be.”
He was silent for a moment. “Hot chocolate? My niece tells me I make the best hot chocolate on the planet.”
It wasn’t the response she’d expected. Maybe that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe it meant he was being sensitive because he realized she didn’t want to talk about it.
She wished her brain would stop overthinking everything.
“And no doubt you correct her by telling her that she hasn’t tasted all the hot chocolate on the planet.”
He strolled to the kitchen. “Believe it or not, I’m remarkably mellow around my niece. If I try hard I even manage not to be pedantic. You should say yes. Not only is it ‘deliciously yummy,’ I get five stars. When it comes to hot chocolate, I’m a winner. It might help you sleep.”
He was wearing black jeans and a black sweater that molded to the hard swell of his biceps.
Looking at him made her more conscious that she was in her pajamas.
She wondered if she should sprint upstairs and grab a robe.
What would Fliss do?
She’d walk confidently into the kitchen and drink the hot chocolate, while happily holding a conversation about everything under the sun, that’s what she’d do.
Harriet might not be able to match the conversation, but she could walk into the kitchen and drink the hot chocolate.
“How is Karen? Have you spoken to Debra today?”
“Twice. Once in a two-minute break I had between patients this morning and then again about an hour ago. Karen is doing well. Discharging her tomorrow, although it will be another few days before she can fly.” He took milk from the fridge, as relaxed as she was tense. “We spoke on the phone. She was making jokes, so that was good.”
He’d had no time for lunch, but he’d found time to call his sister and his niece. Twice.
Harriet’s heart beat a little faster. “How long will it take her to recover?”
“She’ll be in a cast for a few weeks. I’ll arrange for her to see the orthopedic doctor here, so she doesn’t need to stay in California. She’d be better off at home until she’s more mobile. And we’re all going to Vermont the week before Christmas so she will join us there, although she won’t be skiing of course.”
She slid onto the chair, thinking that at least her lower half was protected behind the kitchen island. She wasn’t used to having anyone witness what she wore to bed. “What’s it like working on Christmas Day?”