An Accidental Family. Loree Lough
it off,” Lamont said, grinning. “You want somebody to snap a picture of me blushing like a schoolgirl?”
“Oh, I doubt anyone would confuse you with a schoolgirl.”
Weird, Lamont thought as Nadine stepped up beside him, how natural and normal it felt, sharing this warm family moment with her.
When she smiled up at him, big eyes glittering like blue diamonds under the enormous crystal chandelier, Lamont had to control the urge to kiss her, right there in front of his girls. “So,” he said to Lily, “what’s next on the schedule? Cake cutting? Tossing of the bouquet?”
“Father-Daughter dance.” Lily waved at the bandleader, who signaled the other musicians to end their song. The dance floor cleared, and in the ensuing hush, guests gathered at the edge of the parquet tiles. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee said into his microphone, “gather ’round as our host takes his best girl for a whirl around the floor.”
Leave it to Lily to choose a song guaranteed to pluck his fatherly heartstrings. In the hope that banal conversation would distract him from the meaningful lyrics, Lamont told her again how pretty she looked. Talked about the wedding-perfect weather. Asked if she’d packed for the honeymoon, and if she’d remembered plenty of sunscreen and antiseasickness pills. “Careful not to stray too far from the beaten path,” he warned, “because the news is full of stories about what happens when tourists end up on island backstreets.” It seemed to be working, because he almost didn’t see the huge circle of friends and relatives, standing all around the dance floor.
Almost…
As they two-stepped from one side of the room to the other, Lamont and Lily passed Nadine. Was he seeing things, or were those tears in her eyes? He would have turned to get a second look, if Lily hadn’t chosen that moment to plant a loving kiss on his chin.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, “for everything. You’ve made this the most special day of my life.”
“Love you, Lilypad.” The use of his pet name for her put a hitch in his voice, and he hoped she hadn’t heard it.
“Love you, too.”
The song ended, and the guests applauded, and his little girl ran off—to do whatever came next on her list of bridal obligations.
“Hey, sailor,” Nadine said, taking his arm, “goin’ my way?”
He shot her a grateful half grin and led her into the lobby. “Did I see you crying back there?” he asked when the doors closed behind them.
“Maybe,” she said, blushing. “I guess. But only a little.” And rolling her eyes, she playfully smacked his shoulder. “So what if I was?”
“Softie.”
“Yeah, well, I saw a tear shining in your eye, too…”
“Yeah, well,” he echoed, “I’m footin’ the bill for this fancy shindig. I have every right to bawl like a baby!”
Had her laughter always been so melodious? And why hadn’t he noticed before that hearing it turned his ears hot and his palms damp?
She didn’t look a day over thirty, though he knew for a fact that she’d turned fifty on her last birthday. Hard to believe this woman’s a grandma! he thought, smirking.
“There you go again,” she said, one well-arched brow high on her forehead, “looking like a cat with a mouthful of bird.”
“A cat with a…a what?”
“Well, unless I wanted you to call me the Mistress of Clichés again, I figured I’d better come up with something original.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re original, all right.”
Lashes fluttering, she blushed again. Yes, by golly, Nadine was flirting with him!
The banquet room doors opened a crack, and Cammi stuck her head out. “Dad, Lily is looking for you.”
“Be right there.” And once his eldest daughter was out of sight, he said from the corner of his mouth, “Guess it’s time to write the check.”
Nadine laughed again. “Nut,” she said, kissing his right cheek.
He didn’t remember much after that…
…except wishing she’d aimed a little left….
Nadine sat in the big wooden rocker, boot heels propped on the white picket rail surrounding the front porch. A little blustery to be outside so late on a February evening, but she didn’t mind. She had fuzzy slippers, her favorite afghan and a cup of tea to keep her warm.
Behind her in the foyer, the dulcet tones of the grandfather clock sounded the ten o’clock hour. She ought to turn in, because tomorrow she was supposed to sing that new hymn she’d been practicing all week. But she wasn’t the least bit sleepy.
Just five more minutes, she mused, closing her eyes to the starry, inky sky.
Smiling into the breeze, she admitted that this had been the best Valentine’s Day in memory. Lily and Max made a lovely couple, their wedding one of the best she’d ever attended.
The startling jangle of the phone interrupted her peaceful reverie, making her slop tea over the mug’s rim. “Rats!” she complained, standing. Well, at least it hadn’t spilled onto her favorite blanket.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Adam? Is everything all right with Julie and Amy?”
“We’re all fine. Sorry to call so late, but I have a huge favor to ask you.”
She slumped onto a counter stool and wrapped the telephone cord around her forefinger.
“For starters, I’ve been laid off. And thanks to Julie’s math errors, our last eight rent checks have bounced.”
Hopefully, he hadn’t called to borrow money, because, much as she’d like to help them, Nadine barely had enough to meet her own bills this month.
“If I hadn’t picked up when the landlord called tonight, I probably wouldn’t have found out until I got home from work and saw all our stuff sitting at the curb. We’re being evicted.”
“Can’t you can bargain with your landlord, explain things and promise to catch up a little extra with your rent every month?”
“That might have worked…six months ago.”
Julie had been hiding the bounced checks from him for that long? That didn’t sound like the sweet girl his son had married. Nadine prayed she hadn’t turned secretive because Adam had inherited his father’s vicious temper, making her afraid to confess her mistakes. “Try not to be too hard on her, Adam. A thing like that…it could happen to anyone.”
“Once or twice, maybe. But for almost a year?” He sighed into the phone. “Come on, Mom. Even you don’t believe that.”
No, she didn’t. But her boy was already hurting enough. “So here’s what we’ll do,” she said. “First thing in the morning, you kids will pack your car as full as you can, and once you get here, you can borrow my pickup for the rest. We’ll store your furniture in the barn, and you know there’s plenty of room for you here.”
She could almost see him—one hand over the phone’s mouthpiece as he relayed the information to his young wife. When Julie came on the line, her voice was thick with tears. “You’re a lifesaver, Mom. A marriage saver, too. I—I don’t know how we’ll ever make it up to you.”
Orphaned at eight, the poor girl had bounced from one foster home to another for years. It had taken a while to smooth the girl’s rough edges, but in the five years the kids had been together, Nadine had come to love her like a daughter, and Julie’s pain was almost as unbearable for her as Adam’s. “You don’t owe me a thing, honey. We’re family, and this is what families do.”