A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,36

on Saturday, make sure she’s inside and then find something to do while they visit. They can call me on my cell phone when she’s ready to be picked up.”

“Saturday.” He tossed the idea around in his head. “Do you want company?”

“Company?” She eyed him and her eyes brightened. “You’re willing to come along?”

“Very willing. I’ll see if I can get a sitter for Peyton.” His comment fluttered across her face.

“You could bring her if you want.”

“I could.” He pictured the sober occasion, but Peyton had never been to Grand Rapids that he could remember and bringing her might be a good distraction for Lucy.

“It’s up to you, but I’d love your company.”

Something registered in her eyes that he didn’t comprehend. Maybe she had the same thoughts. Peyton would not only be a distraction, but the sad occasion might offer Peyton a chance to show sympathy and heighten their friendship.

A deep sigh rolled from Kelsey. “This will be hard for me.”

“I’m sure it will.” He couldn’t imagine Ruthie having an affair. Trust, confidence, everything defiled by lust and betrayal.

Kelsey dragged her fingers through her hair, forcing her part to vanish for a moment. “I’ve only seen Karen a couple of times since I learned about the affair and that was always from a distance. I dealt with Doug.”

“I’ll be with you. I can’t work wonders, but maybe having a friend there will help.”

“It will, and I can’t thank you enough.”

He walked to her side, longing to hold her in his arms. The almost-kiss still hung in his memory, waiting to happen. He’d monitored his emotions so long now he feared taking the step. He gazed at her lips, her soft cheeks and her long, silken hair. His pulse escalated. He looked around the empty room but stopped himself. This wasn’t the right time. Another opportunity would come, and hopefully her sitter wouldn’t turn on the porch light next time.

Chapter Nine

Kelsey steered Lucy through the doorway while Ross waited on the porch. He’d worn a suede jacket and beneath it, a pullover in beige and camel, the same color as the suede. He looked so good to her—a stalwart, caring friend—who put her needs first, first after Peyton. Nearing his minivan, she saw it was empty.

“Where’s Peyton?”

He glanced at Lucy and closed the distance between them. “The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t like the idea. Peyton would be bored with the waiting, and Mrs. Withers was available. It made more sense.” He slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. “And we can use the alone time.”

Grateful, she pressed his hand to affirm his decision. Her emotions had been tied in knots since she’d made plans for the trip, and she’d been concerned about Peyton’s presence, but telling Ross she wasn’t welcome didn’t seem right. He’d made a good choice.

Though Lucy sat in the back seat, a novel in her hand, Kelsey could see she was apprehensive, not only facing her father after so long, but knowing he was very ill. Kelsey grimaced at her decision to hold back the truth from her daughter. She didn’t have it in her heart to tell Lucy that her father was dying. It seemed like too much at one time.

Now she wondered how Doug would react to seeing Lucy. She’d grown up a little—she was more a young lady than a child. Ten was that in-between age when young girls floundered with one foot in childhood and another stretching for adulthood. They wanted to be treated as adults, having their own freedom and independence, while clinging to the security and easy life of their youth. And then came attitude. Sometimes Lucy rolled her eyes as if mothers were the most stupid people in the world. At times, Kelsey believed it.

“You’re thoughtful.”

Her stomach lurched. “Thinking.” She felt empty. “So many memories and concerns.”

“I can’t even imagine.” He snapped on the radio and turned down the volume. “You don’t have to talk now. I know you have a lot to think about.” He glanced into the rearview mirror. “Lucy’s sleeping, I think.”

She turned around and saw her daughter’s eyes closed, the book resting on the seat beside her. “I don’t think she slept well.” She stretched her neck to relieve the tension. “Neither did I.”

He slipped his hand to hers. “Take a nap, too. You need a clear mind for this.”

The warmth traveled to her heart. “I do.” She closed her eyes and relaxed to the lilt of the music