Born To Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“Oh, come on, Acacia! It’s Thanksgiving, for God’s sake!” To Loni, she said, “Please bring us a bit of each. It’s a holiday, and we’re not together that often.” She placed a thin, cool hand over Kacey’s, as if sharing dessert would actually be a bonding experience.

“Okay,” Kacey said, surrending.

“You won’t be disappointed.” Her mother actually patted her hand. What was this? Maribelle wasn’t known for any public displays of affection.

The waitress disappeared through double doors leading to the kitchen.

“I wish you’d give Jeffrey another chance.” Maribelle was nothing if not single-minded.

“I’m not interested, and I think he’s engaged.”

“Seriously?” Maribelle’s dark eyebrows shot skyward.

“I don’t know it for certain, and really, I don’t care, but one of my friends in Seattle, Joanna . . . You met her, I think, once or twice. Anyway, she called the other day and mentioned that Jeffrey was going to get married next year sometime.”

“Well . . .” She played with the napkin in her lap, and the shadows from the candle on the table played against her face, aging her a bit. “It’s just that I . . . I would so love a grandchild.”

“Really?” Kacey was surprised. She had been an only child and had been told often enough that she hadn’t been planned. Though she was certain her mother loved her, Maribelle had never been one to fawn over children or even show an interest in becoming a grandmother. Until today.

“Are you seeing anyone?” her mother asked hopefully.

Kacey’s wayward mind flitted to Trace O’Halleran before she brought herself back to reality. “No.”

“No one at the hospital? Another doctor?”

“I said—”

“What about online dating? I see all sorts of sites advertised on the television, and Judy Keller’s daughter found the love of her life on some Christian matchmaking Web site. I’m sure there’s one for professionals. In fact, I checked.”

“I really don’t have time.”

“Of course you do. It’s a matter of priorities, that’s all! And if I were you, I wouldn’t give up on Jeffrey so soon. He’s a well-respected surgeon, and he’s even written a book and has speaking engagements all over the country.”

“And you know this ... how?” Kacey asked.

Maribelle didn’t bat an eye. “I have the Internet, darling. It’s a wonderful tool. And nowhere on Jeffrey’s Web site did he mention a fiancée.”

The desserts and coffee appeared at that second, but Kacey caught the look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. Maribelle had loved Jeffrey Lambert from the second she’d met him. “A heart surgeon,” she’d whispered to her daughter, her eyes alight. “And handsome, too.”

Never mind that Kacey herself would soon be a doctor in her own right. Or that Jeffrey had an ego that would rival Napoleon’s.

The bottom line with her mother was Jeffrey Lambert, MD, was one helluva catch and her daughter had let him slip away. Now, as she bit into the crème brûlée, Kacey wondered what her mother would think if she admitted that the man she found most interesting these days was a hardscrabble rancher with a seven-year-old son.

Finally, as her mother was in her own private heaven, sampling her cheesecake and moaning softly in ecstasy, Kacey brought up the subject that had been weighing on her mind. “So, Mom, did Aunt Helen have any kids?”

“Of course not.” Maribelle glanced up quickly. “She and Bill couldn’t. You know that.”

“What about on Dad’s side?”

“No. Neither of his brothers married. Again, you already know this.”

“Maybe not married ... but had some kids they didn’t talk about? Or maybe know about?”

Her mother was shaking her head as if the idea were impossible. “As far as I recall, they never dated much.”

“So, you’re saying I don’t have any ... cousins that I was never told about? Since you and Helen have been estranged, I thought—”

“What? That I lied? Why would I do that?” Her mother looked perturbed again and straightened her napkin. “I’m telling you, no cousins. You know that. I don’t understand why you’re asking now.”