had walked into the kitchen two nights ago to find Lydia on the computer with Charlie. She was showing him and Danny how to put together a PowerPoint presentation.
She’d said a quick hi to her brothers and heard that Dad was “fine” again, before she completely lost their interest to the younger, cute, nonsister girl in the room.
So Lydia could take care of whatever they needed.
That was fine.
Kind of.
Trying to come up with something that Lydia couldn’t coach her intelligent-in-spite-of-how-they-act-brothers in, she almost ran the girl over.
Lydia was standing at the bottom of the stairs—did she have Allie under video surveillance or something?—holding a plate.
Allie stopped on the bottom step, literally unable to pass.
She couldn’t believe Lydia and Charlie had started up a friendship. Or whatever it was. But, strangely, since learning they were talking and that he had a new job, Allie realized she wasn’t really worried about her brothers. She was—annoyed she supposed was the best term—that they seemed to suddenly need someone they barely knew more than they needed their own sister. But there was something to be said for having the attention of a non-relative girl their age. Who was cute. Even when she wasn’t smiling. Of course, Allie had noticed that Lydia smiled a lot when she was on the computer with Charlie.
Truthfully, though, it was nice that someone was keeping track of them. And it felt nice for it not to be her.
“What’s this?” Allie indicated the plate.
“Spinach, mushroom and Swiss omelet.”
Allie’s stomach growled on cue. She checked out the breakfast. There was a side of fruit—oranges, grapes and strawberries—and a toasted English muffin too.
Allie crossed her arms. If Lydia got her all excited about the food, then said it wasn’t for Allie, she might have to smack her.
“Sounds good.”
Lydia handed her the plate. “Here.”
“Why so nice this morning?” But Allie took the plate, then stepped up two steps, out of Lydia’s reach.
“Gavin’s upset.”
Allie was prepared for a smart-ass comment, so it took her a second to process Lydia’s words. “Upset?”
Lydia nodded, looking worried. Not annoyed, not bored, not irritated, not resigned. Worried.
“What’s he upset about? And what does that have to do with my breakfast?”
The food Lydia left her every morning was delicious, but this was beyond anything she’d done so far.
“He got a call this morning,” Lydia said.
Was he upset at Lydia? If Lydia was kissing up to Allie, hoping she’d put in a good word, it was probably too little too late. Still, Allie would hear her out.
“You need to talk to him,” Lydia added.
“About what?”
“The call. Make him feel better.”
Allie looked closer at the younger girl. She was worried, but maybe not about her fate. She was worried about Gavin.
“Have you talked to him?” Allie asked. “What’s going on?”
Lydia shook her head. “Gavin and I don’t do that.”
“You don’t talk?”
“Not about serious personal stuff.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “This is personal?”
“I guess. I don’t know.” Lydia actually seemed shaken up by the whole thing. “The call was from the zoo.”
“The zoo?”
“In Anchorage. He does some work there sometimes. That’s where the bears are.”
Allie stepped down the two bottom steps. “The bears?”
Lydia rolled her eyes—well, that was more in character at least—and said, “The polar bears. The twins.”
Ah. The polar bear cubs. Right. They were at the Anchorage zoo. “What did Gavin say after the call?”
“Nothing. But he threw his coffee cup against the kitchen wall, swore and stomped off to his office.”
Allie’s gaze flew to the door to the clinic. That image worried her a little too. Gavin never really got pissed off like that. He didn’t throw things, anyway.
“Nancy tried to talk to him but he told her to leave him alone. And I’m not going in there. But someone should.”
Allie looked back to Lydia. “Me?”
“Who better?”
Allie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Because I might get yelled at and you’d enjoy that?”
“Because you make him happy,” Lydia said in a tone that indicated Allie was being particularly dumb. “He’s a lot happier since you’ve been here.”
Allie blinked. That was almost a compliment. From Lydia. “Wow. Saying stuff like that makes it less likely you’ll need bribes to get me in there,” Allie said, holding up the plate of eggs.
“It’s not a bribe,” Lydia said, turning back to the kitchen. “You might need the sustenance. I’ve never seen him like this and you’re kind of puny.”
Allie started to protest, then thought better of it and took two big bites of the best omelet ever made before pulling in a deep breath and starting