“You need to give it to her yourself.” Cal nodded toward the stairs. “Go knock on the door. She’ll let you in.”
It was the only time Cal had ever seen Daniel Spencer unsure of himself. “I’m scared down to my bones.”
“I have faith in you, man.”
Cal slapped him on the back, a gesture of forgiveness. Then he jogged down the stairs, leaving Daniel to march himself up to his sister’s door.
* * *
Lyssa was putting away the leftover curry when she heard a knock. She opened the door, about to ask Cal why he was back so soon. The words died on her lips.
Daniel stood in the doorway. “I know you said you needed time to think. But I couldn’t let any more time pass knowing you hated me.”
Of course she didn’t hate him. At the same time, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook that easily. She also wasn’t interested in hiding anything from him anymore, so she deliberately looked past him into the hallway. “Cal was just here. Did you see him coming up?”
Daniel nodded, blinking with the only eyelid that worked. “I did. And we talked.”
She put a hand on her hip. “With fists or words?”
“Words.” He tried to smile, but his swollen mouth wasn’t cooperating. “We had a really good talk, Lyssa. Then he left to give you and me time to talk. He said he’d be back.”
Ah. If Cal was giving them space, whatever Daniel had told him must have convinced Cal that she’d want to hear what her brother had to say.
And it would be churlish to leave Daniel standing in the hallway. “Come on in.”
Truthfully, he looked even worse than Cal. One half of his face was black and blue. Cal had obviously gotten in some very good right hooks. Her brother’s left eye was barely open, and she was surprised he could talk through that swollen lip.
She stood, her arms folded, waiting.
Daniel held up a stuffed animal with both hands, like an offering. “I was going to give this to you, like that time we all got you the stuffed animals.” His nostrils flared as he breathed in, as if something was swollen up there too. “But you’re not a little girl who needs stuffed animals to make her feel better.” It was hard to tell with the colors marking his face, but she thought his features softened. “So I’m giving you this as an early gift for your baby. My niece or nephew.” A slip of paper was tied to its collar, and Daniel tore it off, shoving it in his pocket. “I wrote you a note, because I thought for sure you wouldn’t let me in. But if you’ll listen, I’ll tell you what it said.”
“I’m listening,” she said softly to her very big brother.
He looked more contrite than she’d ever thought possible. “I’m sorry for not giving you and Cal a chance to tell everyone yourselves. I’m sorry for not trusting you to know what you were doing. I’m sorry for thinking that I had the right to judge you. Or Cal. I don’t have an excuse. Like Mom said, what I did was totally unacceptable. That’s not what this family is about.” He swallowed, and she thought it went down hard. “I’ve asked Cal to forgive me. But I need to ask your forgiveness even more.”
She took the fluffy dog, holding it against her belly, against the baby. Then she held out her hand to Daniel. “There’s something I want to show you.”
She led him to the bedroom, stepping aside so he could enter.
The bed was covered with well-loved stuffed animals, the Saint Bernard standing sentinel at the foot. Surprise lit his features—at least she thought it did.
“You still have them all.” His voice was soft, low, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Of course I do. They’ve gone with me everywhere, from the old apartment, to the house you bought Mom and Dad, to here. They’ve always been my most precious possessions.”
She held up the dog he’d just given her. “And I know this will be one of my child’s most precious possessions too.”
Something shimmered in his eyes, and though it could have been just the pain of his injuries, she felt certain they were tears.
“I have no excuse. I lost control completely. You’ve always been my little sister. And I’ll always be the big brother who wants to take care of you. But I got it all mixed up in my head, feeling like you still needed me to step in and make things right. I didn’t think, I just acted. And I acted badly.” He looked at her with such grief in his one open eye. “When you moved out here, I urged Mom and Dad to come with you, told them we all needed to look out for you. I just didn’t want to see that you’d grown up. I wanted you to be my little sister forever. But I’ve finally figured out that you don’t need us to take care of you, because you’re a strong, amazing woman. I made so many mistakes along the way, trying to get Cal to give you that job because I thought you’d be safe. But you don’t need me to protect you. And you don’t need me to arrange jobs for you. You can do it all on your own. You can do anything on your own.”