41
G
RATEFUL BUT
U
NWILLING
D
ominic’s eyes were Grace’s undoing. Those big brown eyes melted her resistance and persuaded her where mere pleas had failed. It was all the eyes—and maybe the bit about Ray taking them out for Indian food.
At first, Grace tried to laugh it off. “Maybe they’ll have tandoori turkey on the menu.”
That was when Dominic had turned those big brown eyes on her. “No pie, though.” His voice contained such sadness, he might as well have said
no love.
“Just mango custard.”
His four kinds of pie lament from last year came to mind. It was as if there were a cinch around her heart, squeezing.
“Or a little soupy rice pudding,” he droned on.
Grace couldn’t take any more. “Why don’t you all come over here?”
“That would be a lot more work for you,” Lily pointed out.
“It’s no more work to buy a bigger turkey,” Grace told her.
The two kids raised up for a moment, their faces hopeful. Then their gazes met and they both deflated. “Dad would say we were imposing,” Lily explained.
“He’ll send one of us over here to tell you no.”
“What if
I
talk to him?” she suggested.
They brightened up again. “Would you?”
“Of course.”
Lily warned, “Dad’ll probably try to convince you that he had big plans mapped out.”
“Yeah—he’ll make out like he was going to make a turkey on his own,” Dominic said. “But that’s just because he’s too proud to ask for help.”
“He is?”
Dominic nodded. “He’ll act like he’s got it all under control.”
“Well, I’ll be diplomatic,” she promised.
As it turned out, Lily and Dominic’s predictions were spot on.
“Thanks for the invite,” Ray said, “but I think I’ve got Thanksgiving under control.”
“You have plans?” She very nearly asked him which Indian place they were going to this time.
“We’re having dinner here. Gonna attempt a turkey myself, I think.”
Poor guy. His kids really had him pegged.
She swung into manipulative mode. “I guess you’ve heard, Dad is moving in December.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. What will you do?”
“I’ll spend the month of December selling off the rest of Dad’s stuff, and I guess in January I’ll move to an apartment or something.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“I’ve known it was coming. It’s . . . well, you know. It’s not just Dad. I’ll miss the house, too. All those years I was in Portland, it was the home I dreamed about. I guess I just assumed it would always be there.”
“Because you assumed
he
would always be there,” he said, understanding.
“The thing is,” she continued, getting back to the point, “Dad probably won’t have much more opportunity to see Lily and Dominic after Thanksgiving.”
Ray weighed her words for a moment. “I could send them over after dinner.”
Was he really that desperate to avoid her company? She started to feel irritated—and challenged. “Ray, the fact is, I’ve already invited the kids over. All of you, actually. I think they have their hearts set on it.”
His brows arched. “Jordan too?”
“Jordan too. We’ve declared a truce.”
He seemed impressed.
“I’m sorry if I stepped out of line,” she said. “I didn’t know you would kick up an objection. But I can’t rescind the invitation. It’s against my policy.”
He smiled. “Mine too. That’s why there’s a problem . . .”
Lily didn’t find out about the extra guest until Thanksgiving day, when she was counting places in Grace’s dining room. As Grace explained about the extra chair, Lily’s composure snapped. “You invited
Muriel Blainey?
” She was almost yelling. “Why?”
“What could I do? Your dad said they’d already talked about spending the holiday together. If I hadn’t invited her, she would have been by herself all day. Ray might have sent you all over here and spent the day at her house. Alone with her.”
She exchanged a significant glance with Lily.
“Oh.”
In truth, when Grace had heard that Ray intended to spend the day with Muriel, she was tempted to wash her hands of the whole business. First her brother, now her neighbor. Was she going to spend her whole life dealing with the Blainey threat?
On the other hand, she had promised the kids.
At least including five new people would add another layer of interest to what was shaping up to be a bittersweet holiday. Thanksgiving was the prelude to her father’s exodus from the house. The first weekend of December—the weekend of her birthday—he was going to be moving to his new place, and she would spend the next month boxing things up, selling, and shipping, and trying to figure out where she was going to go herself.
When Sam, who had flown in to spend a couple of weeks, heard about the situation with Ray’s family, he cornered Grace in the kitchen to crow in amusement. “So are you on a one-woman mission to save the world from Blainey-kind?”
She smiled. “Not a mission. Just helping out.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Just helping out so that she doesn’t snag your guy.”
“Oh, please! Have you been upstairs dipping into my old
Sweet Valley High
books again?” Sam had found several in a Goodwill box and had been pestering her with dramatic readings from them all day. “Ray’s not
my guy
—not by any stretch.”
He arched a brow. “Not even in your imagination?”
“Not even there,” she said. “I like him. Last year I felt a sort of . . . I don’t know . . . camaraderie building there. But then things went south.”
“Every romance has its ups and downs.”
“It’s not a romance,” she said. “Never was.”
“The kiss was just accidental?”
She whirled on her heel. “Who told you about that?”
“I might be a gossipy bigmouth,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the counter, “but I’m also a journalist. I never reveal a source.”
Who could have told him? Only Ray knew—and Ray was the very opposite of a gossipy bigmouth.
“The kiss was a mistake.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam said.
She handed him a bowl of olives. “Put this on the table.”
“Why? So you can have a moment to think of a rationalization?”
“Yes.”
“Well, forget about it, because when I come back I intend to pester you for info about this new girlfriend of Steven’s.”
“That’s not a girlfriend. That’s Emily.”
“I hate to contradict, but I saw them standing together next to Truman and Peggy, and Steven had his hand at the small of Emily’s back.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. She had given up her dream of anyone ever getting past Emily’s tough shell. Especially Emily herself.
Sam left, almost bumping into the woman herself on her way in. She did look a little different. She had cut her hair and given it a light perm, softening up the sharp edges and angles of her face.
“Is there another gravy boat, Grace? Frau Blainey is warning that the dining table is going to have a condiment dead zone.”
Grace laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll dig up something.”
“Give me something to do,” Emily begged. “I hate to stand around feeling useless, and Steven’s deep in a conversation with your uncle about his knee.”
Steven?
Not Dr. Oliver?
Sam was even more perceptive than she’d ever given him credit for.
Grace picked up the water pitcher and handed it to Emily. “The water glasses need filling. Be my guest.”
“I thought we already were your guests.” Jordan slouched in and with her sharp-nailed fingers pincered a carrot stick off a tray. “I didn’t know we had to work, too.” She crossed to the stove and started lifting lids off pots. “Isn’t this stuff ready yet? I’m starving.”
“Almost.”
“What’s the deal with Sam?” Jordan asked. “He’s cuter than you and your other brother. Doesn’t he have anybody?”
“He does, but he doesn’t really admit it. The guy’s in Africa.”
“Cool—what’s he doing there?”
“Planting trees.”
Jordan chewed this over. “Interesting. So . . . it’s really just you who’s not paired off.”
“Thanks. I hadn’t dwelled on that fact in the past ten minutes.”
“You want to know why you’re alone and your brothers aren’t?” Before Grace could say no, Jordan continued, “Because men don’t do lonely. Women do, since they’re pickier. But men will just take whatever comes down the pike.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Look at my dad and Muriel. That’s all the proof you need.”
“But they’re not together . . . not really.” When Jordan didn’t say anything, she asked, “Are they?”
“Only a matter of time, I’d say.” Jordan edged closer as Grace was sticking rolls into the oven. “Dominic says you’re not going to the spa. Why not?”
That spa again! Dominic had been whining to her about it for weeks. Lily too. “I don’t have time. Besides, your dad should go and take you guys.”
“Or Muriel,” Jordan said.
The idea rankled, but Grace forced herself to say calmly, “If that’s what he wants.”
“But you won it!”
“We did it together.”
“Then you should go together.”
Grace shook her head. “I really don’t have time. We’re moving Dad next weekend, and then it’s going to be busy right up through Christmas. And then . . . who knows?”
She thought that would be the end of this particular discussion. Wishful thinking, evidently. Even during dinner, the subject of the damn spa popped up.
This time it was Steven who mentioned it. “So when’s the big spa trip?”
Grace put down her forkful of mashed potatoes. It was hard not to send a glance in Ray’s direction. He’d already been looking awkward enough, wedged between Muriel and Grace. “It’s not happening. I don’t have time.”
“It wouldn’t be a long trip,” Lily said quickly. “It’s just two nights. Anyone can manage two nights.”
Muriel looked around at everyone, eyes wide and alert. “What trip is this?”
“Grace and Dad won a trip to this place in the Hill Country when they went to my school’s Parent Night,” Dominic told her. “But now Grace won’t go.”
“Well,” Muriel said dismissively, “I never thought spas sounded like too much fun anyway.”
Even Emily put her oar in. “I sure wouldn’t pass up a getaway like that. It’s free.” Her laser gaze buttonholed Grace. “Are you accustomed to throwing money away?”
Grace shrank a little at her tone. Maybe the woman had a little bulldozer in her after all.
“You should go, Grace,” Sam said, smiling.
“Yes, you should,” Peggy put in, her round face encouraging. “It would do you good.”
What was this? A conspiracy?
Grace searched everyone’s faces; her fears were confirmed. It
was
a conspiracy. “I have no time,” she said. “We’re moving Dad next weekend, remember?”
“We can manage that,” Sam said quickly. “Can’t we, Steven?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be on call.” As silence fell, Steven’s gaze traveled nervously around the table. “Oh—but of course, we don’t need Grace just to make sure Dad’s stuff gets loaded and moved.”
“There!” Jordan said. “Next weekend. Mark it on your calendar. Right, Dad?”
Ray looked shell-shocked. “I’m not sure. They might be full up. And what about you all?” he asked, looking at his three children.
“We’re coming too,” Jordan said. “And it’s off-season—they have rooms. I checked.”
“Oh, but—” Ray didn’t seem up to an argument with his kids in front of Grace’s family.
“Why not?” Dominic asked. “We aren’t doing anything else, are we?”
“That’s several more rooms,” Ray pointed out. “A lot more money.”
“Jordan and I can share a room,” Lily piped up.
“Yeah,” Jordan said.
Cutlery clanked against plates, and a stunned hush fell over the room. If Lily and Jordan were willing to share a room, the Muriel threat had to be more deadly serious than Grace had suspected.
Muriel jumped in. “Of course you couldn’t leave the kids behind, Ray.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is this place called?”
“The Winecup Lodge and Spa,” he said.
She tilted her head. “I think I’ve heard of it. I’ve always been curious about places like that. I might look into it myself!”