A Home for the M.D.

Alice bit her lip before asking, “She died?”

“Yes. From injuries she sustained in a car accident when she was only a little older than you are now. It will be twelve years ago next week.”

Blinking rapidly, Alice looked down at the photograph again. “I’m sorry. She looks nice.”

“She was.”

“You must really miss her, huh?”

Jacqui took the photograph again, glancing down at it before replying, “Yes. I do.”

“Is that why you freaked out that I was in a car with Milo?”

“Partly. I’ve seen the results of an inexperienced driver being distracted by passengers. I want you to stay safe, Alice. I want you to grow up to finish high school and go to prom and college and become an orthodontist or whatever you eventually decide to be. All the things Olivia never got to do. I’m not saying you should be covered in bubble wrap and never allowed to leave the house—tempting as that might be for your dad and for me—but I do think you should take reasonable precautions. Look both ways before you cross the street. Don’t stand outside in a lightning storm. Wear a helmet when you ride your bike. And don’t ride in a car with a reckless teenage boy who’s showing off for a group of younger girls.”

“Was Olivia riding in a car with a reckless teenage boy?” Alice asked, subdued.

“No.” Folding her hand around the treasured photograph, Jacqui stood. “Just a driver who was too young to react quickly enough in a dangerous situation. I want you to understand why your family and I are so concerned about the ground rules they’ve developed for you, Alice. Your dad will probably chew you out when he gets here, but it’s only because he wants you to stay safe. You’ll get a little more freedom with each passing year, but I expect you’ll have to demonstrate first that you’re ready to take each new step.”

“By not breaking the rules, you mean?”

Jacqui smiled. “That’s definitely a good start.”

She reached out to stroke a hand over Alice’s soft, curly hair. “Don’t dread your dad getting home, Alice. He’ll fuss, but he’ll be very happy to see you, too. He loves you very much. You know he can never stay mad at you for long.”

“Thanks, Jacqui. And I’m sorry about your sister. Will you tell me about her sometime?”

“Sometime,” Jacqui promised. “Not today.”

“Okay.” She set the book aside. “Maybe I’ll go swim for a while. Do you want to swim with me?”

“I’ll sit outside with you while you swim. I’d like to get some knitting time in before

making dinner.”

Leaving the girl to change, she walked to her own room to put away her photograph. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it out today. Maybe she was simply ready to talk about Olivia again. And maybe Mitch had something to do with that.

She and Mitch had shared a house for less than two weeks and already she felt as though some things in her world had shifted. She had been so content before—or so she’d convinced herself. She hated to think her life would be in any way less satisfying when this atypical interlude came to an inevitable end.

Chapter Nine

Seth and Meagan returned Thursday afternoon in a flurry of baggage and gifts and hugs. Alice threw herself happily into her father’s loving arms, then gave her stepmother an equally fervent welcome-home hug. It had been only a couple of weeks since they’d all seen each other, and Jacqui was sure Seth and Meagan had enjoyed their rare time together, but they were obviously happy to be back home again.

Keeping one arm around his daughter’s shoulders, Seth greeted Jacqui. “Well?” he teased. “You aren’t holding a resignation letter behind your back, are you?”

She smiled. “No. We’ve gotten by just fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Seth had heard a little about his daughter’s mini-rebellion over the phone—but not from Jacqui, who had left that task to Alice and her grandparents. He gave his daughter a look that promised a talk later, then hugged her again before releasing her.

Meagan smiled at Jacqui. “To add to your chores while we were gone, I hear you’ve also been taking care of my homeless brother. You certainly had your hands full, didn’t you?”

Jacqui forced a smile. She’d hardly seen Mitch since he’d left her bedroom after her nightmare two nights earlier. He’d been busy at work—or maybe busy avoiding her once Alice was there to observe them. He hadn’t talked to Alice about the incident at her grandparents’ house, probably figuring there were enough adults on the girl’s case about that, but instead had teased his niece just like always during the brief times they were both home. His manner toward Jacqui had been friendly, casual, deliberately proper in front of the girl. But the expression in his eyes when their glances had occasionally collided had let her know he hadn’t forgotten one moment of the time they had spent alone together.

“It was no trouble at all,” she assured Meagan, hoping no one could tell she was lying through her teeth.

Meagan smiled wryly. “Right. Thank you anyway for everything you’ve done.”

“No problem.” She figured she had earned every penny of the generous bonus she had been promised in her next paycheck.