ChapterSix
I heard you on the phone, sweetheart. You’re returning the ring. That means you’re not.
The following morning, Devon trudged downstairs with all the energy and enthusiasm of a slug or a sloth or one of the other slow-as-molasses animals she didn’t have the brain power to name at the moment.
She’d tossed and turned all night, dreams filled with the almost kiss from Oz, her phone call to Ted, and all the things currently wrong in her life.
Wasn’t it enough to be burying her father under the circumstances? For her to seemingly be engaged to a man who wasn’t there for her when she needed him so now she wasn’t and the breakup conversation had taken place in a voicemail? Was she really going to add Oz into the mix just for giggles?
Stop it.
The kiss hadn’t happened. Everything was fine. And Ted…
He’d sent flowers. A huge bouquet of assorted beauties and a card simply marked with thinking of you, T.
The sight had saddened her and made her feel… He couldn’t even write his name? Sign it with love?
Was she being too picky? Had he sent the flowers before or after she’d called him back and left the message? He’d said flowers were on the way but had they been ordered at that point?
Was she being overly sensitive due to Ted’s comments about protecting his image? Or maybe he was still upset about the newspaper photo of her and Oz?
A part of her understood Ted’s reasons. She really did. The political scene Ted pursued was rife with scandals that often tainted a campaign and hindered an election. Even though they hadn’t officially announced their engagement, they’d dated for a year, attended events together. Everyone knew they were a couple.
Oz aside, surely the American public would understand that every household had that family member. While the Teekses had been blessed up until a few days ago to be free of that stigma, her father had hit a home run with his scandalous behavior. She understood why Ted was being cautious. But still…
It hurt and confused her even more.
She inhaled and sighed as she reached the bottom tread.
Coffee. She needed coffee.
Stat.
When she entered the kitchen, her mother and Dara were already there. Rayna Jo stood at the stove, making her island-famous crepes, and Devon’s mouth instantly began to water at the sight. “Oh, Mama, you have no idea how often I crave those.”
Rayna Jo smiled at Devon.
“I thought you might like them. I don’t fix them nearly as much as I used to. Especially with your father traveling so much. I just make them for the Babes every now and again.”
Dara met Devon’s gaze at the statement and waved the jug of orange juice she held.
“Mama insists on mimosas. You up for it?”
“Can’t think of any reason not to be,” Devon said. With the funeral arrangements made, there was little to do but wait and avoid the reporters outside.
As they settled into breakfast a few minutes later, the home telephone rang, and Dara checked the caller ID.
“It’s the fu— Uh, I have to take this,” she said, getting up from the table and excusing herself.
Devon watched her go with a knot in her stomach. If the funeral home was calling, that meant her father’s body had probably been released for burial. That also meant they’d have to navigate the service with their mother. Somehow. “Mama? Have you… heard from Dad?”
“No. It’s strange, too, because he always calls if he’s going to be delayed.”
Devon watched as her mother’s expression pinched with her statement.
“But don’t you worry. He’ll be in touch soon. I’m sure of it,” Rayna Jo said. “He won’t want to miss seeing you home.”
“The, um, Babes are coming over again today. Your hair looks good, by the way. Tessa did a great job yesterday.”