her kids. Roy leaned back in his recliner with a blanket over him, wanly delighted with the new addition to the Lewis family.
Darcy’s nine nieces and nephews ranged in age from two to fifteen. The little ones played with toys on the floor, the older two monitored their phones and the middle girl cousins, Dani and ten-year-old Lisa, hovered over Billy, clamoring to hold him next. The noise level was typical of the Lewis family gatherings with everyone talking at once.
Emma hadn’t expected everyone to be there, but clearly the occasion was a big deal, evidenced by the buffet lunch laid out on the dining table. She used to love that the Lewises were a close-knit family but now she felt under the microscope.
Darcy was the man of the hour as the new father. Seeing him now, she never would have guessed he was the same guy who used to disappear to the pub twelve hours out of every day. Was he right? Had she pushed him away from caring for their daughter because he’d let her fall on her head? Maybe she’d overreacted—Holly hadn’t been hurt after all—but it easily could have been worse. Still, how else did parents learn except by doing? He’d managed okay with Billy.
Marge was in grandmother heaven. Emma felt horribly guilty that she hadn’t found a few spare moments before now to let her see Billy. After the tragedy of Holly everyone deserved to share in the joy of a new baby.
Courtney, Dan’s wife, offered her the bowl of chips. “I hear you and Darcy are back together.”
“No.” Emma waved away the chips. Where had this come from? Surely not Darcy.
“We’ve all been hoping this would happen,” Courtney went on, apparently thinking Emma had been saying no to the snack. “Dan and I were sure you wouldn’t be able to stay apart for long. You two are the perfect couple.”
“Darcy and I aren’t back together.” Emma spoke louder than she’d intended, coinciding with a lull in conversation. Her statement carried across the room loud and clear.
All the adults and even the kids looked over.
“But...” Confusion showed on Courtney’s fine, pointed features. She tugged on one of the multiple rings in her ears. “Dan said you’d moved into the apartment above the pub.”
“Temporarily. I’ve been sick with pneumonia. Darcy was helping me out with Billy.”
“So you’re not going to stay there?” Marge asked. “I thought from what Darcy said, things were working out.”
Darcy met Emma’s gaze and shook his head. “I meant Billy. Things were working out with me looking after the baby.”
“No,” Marge said. “You told me you and Emma were getting along really well.”
“We are. Or, we do sometimes. It’s not the same as getting back together.” He reached for a handful of nuts from the bowl on the coffee table. “Now that Emma’s feeling better, she wants to move back to her own place soon.”
“You should try a little longer, for Billy’s sake,” Marge murmured.
“We weren’t trying to get together,” Emma explained. “It was a matter of convenience.”
That was met by quiet disapproval from the whole clan. Emma felt her exasperation grow. “We’re divorced. There were good reasons for that. I wanted more children and Darcy didn’t.”
“Now you’ve got your child. Darcy adores him. What’s the problem?” Marge looked around the room for confirmation of her logic. Heads nodded.
“Darcy is coping with Billy but the baby isn’t the only issue.” Emma was outnumbered by a very wide margin. “Tell them, Darcy.”
From across the room he looked her straight in the eye. “Maybe we shouldn’t rule anything out.”
What did he mean by that? And how the heck was she supposed to respond? Emma had a baby to look after. She couldn’t rely on maybe. She needed absolutes.
She shot a sharp look at Darcy then rose and picked up the diaper bag. “Billy needs a change. Darcy can you give me a hand in the bedroom?”
Mike, Darcy’s second oldest brother, laughed. “Darcy, help? We all know he couldn’t change a diaper if he tried.”
Darcy threw a peanut at him. “I’ve learned a thing or two in the past couple of weeks.”
“I’ll help,” Dani offered.
“Not this time, sweetie.” Emma plucked Billy out of Marge’s arms. “Coming, Darcy?”
Dan chuckled as they filed past. “They might not be married, but he sure is whipped like a husband.”
Emma stuck her chin in the air and pretended not to hear. She walked down the long hall to the last bedroom, the one Darcy and Mike had shared as kids.