After All - Romancing Manhattan

“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” I say and climb into his lap, straddling him. “Honest. I’m just not ready for that kind of a big change yet. I like things the way they are for now.”

“Okay.” He grips my hips and smiles up at me just as the doorbell rings. “We’re assuming this position again after dinner.”

“I look forward to it.”

Chapter Fourteen

~Carter~

“I said no.”

I can feel it coming on. The headache from hell is settling in nicely right behind my left eye socket. She’s also sitting in the back seat of my car while I drive the three of us to Maggie’s house for Sunday family dinner.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mean,” Gabby says. The girl’s been jumping on my last nerve for days. She’s pouty, surly, stubborn, and impossible.

If this is what the rest of her teen years are going to look like, I’m shipping her off to boarding school.

Okay, so I’d miss her within ten minutes, but this is ridiculous.

“I’m mean because I’m your parent, and it’s my job to protect you, not be your best friend,” I explain for the fifth time today. “You don’t need an Instagram account, and that’s the end of it.”

“All my friends have one,” she argues. “Like, every single one of them. I’m the only one who doesn’t.”

“Well, then I guess you’re the only one in the whole universe with a father who doesn’t think it’s appropriate for a twelve-year-old to have an Instagram account. You’ve already stretched your phone privileges. Do you want to go back to the old way of doing things, where you don’t have your phone at all unless you’re away from home without me?”

Gabby sighs heavily. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

I pull into Maggie’s driveway, and Gabby launches herself out of the car, slamming the door and hurrying inside before I can even cut the engine.

“You’re leaving town tomorrow,” Nora reminds us both. She turns to me and purses her lips. “It’s gonna be fun. Yay, me.”

“I can have Maggie or one of the brothers keep her,” I offer, but Nora’s already shaking her head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve kept her plenty of times. I just don’t understand the sudden regression to the attitude she had last year. Maybe it’s me. Maybe she’s having an issue with us being together.”

“It could be a number of things,” I reply and reach over to squeeze her hand in encouragement. “I’ll see if I can get her back in with her therapist this week. Maybe she’ll talk to a professional because she sure won’t talk to me.”

“I hope so,” Nora says as we step out of the car and walk inside. Quinn and Finn are both in the kitchen with their mother, helping her put the finishing touches on dinner. Sienna and London are sitting at the island, sipping wine, and Gabby is sulking in the living room, her nose in her phone, watching YouTube.

“What’s wrong with her?” Finn asks, gesturing to my daughter.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I reply and open the fridge, praying Maggie stocked up on some beer for today.

Of course she did.

“Just one,” I say to Nora with a wink. “I could use it.”

“I can always drive home.” She kisses my shoulder as she walks over to greet Maggie with a hug. “How can I help?”

“The boys help cook,” Maggie says with a smile. “So you just pour a glass of wine and relax with my girls.”

“If you’re sure,” Nora says with surprise and joins Sienna and London with a glass of wine. I watch as Gabby glares at Nora’s back and decide here and now that I need to have a heart-to-heart with my little girl.

Before I throttle her.

“Here,” Maggie says, passing me a potato masher. “You’re in charge of the potatoes. You always get the milk-to-butter ratio just right.”

“Hear that,” I say to Finn as I step to the counter next to him. “She likes my potatoes best.”

“That’s because you’re a potato head,” Finn says cheerfully, cutting vegetables for a salad.

Gabby pushes to her feet from the couch and wanders over to the wall of photos Maggie’s had on display for years. Family photos, of her children as they grew up, and newer wedding photos from Finn’s and Quinn’s weddings.

But Gabby stops at Darcy’s high school graduation photo and says, “My mom was superpretty. I don’t think my dad could ever find anyone prettier than my mom was.”

My eyes lock with Nora’s. She’s not hurt. If anything, her brown eyes are filled with humor, touched with concern.

Gabby’s determined to swipe at Nora, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

“Maggie, I think these potatoes are ready. I’m going to have a conversation with my daughter.”

“Thank you, dear” is all Maggie says as I round the kitchen counter, take Gabby’s arm in my hand, and pull her to the guest bedroom farthest from the kitchen.