to imagine it a few times but with the Carano bunch, he never had a moment’s peace. They were in his business more than he was. At times he resented them for that, but situations such as this one made him appreciate the circle of love.
Which did not mean he wasn’t going to move out on his own as soon as he found an apartment. No matter how his parents argued that it was not necessary. No matter how economical the arrangement might be, no matter how expensive apartment rentals were, Nic needed his own space. Space to study for another go at medical school exams. Space to be away from the prying eyes and pressure of second-generation Americans who expected him to be something more than what he was. Much as he loved them, a big family could be trying.
With a quirk of his lips, Nic admitted to himself that he would, however, miss his mama’s cooking.
He was pushing the elevator button when he heard the older woman ask in a high and nasal voice, “Has anyone telephoned child welfare? That baby will need to be adopted out.”
He pivoted for a better look at Cassidy’s grandmother. The woman looked as though she had swallowed a glass of vinegar and was sorely annoyed to be in this place. Not grieved, annoyed.
Maybe he’d been wrong about Cassidy needing her family.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, thinking, fighting the temptation and losing so fast his head spun. He needed to head home, clean up, catch some Zs. He and Lacey and Sherry Lynn were on for a Redhawks game tonight. This was none of his business. Cassidy didn’t even want him here. She’d practically tossed him out on his ear.
But baby Alex had wanted him, and the little dude was the one in jeopardy.
Besides, as Nic and his firefighter buddies always said, he could sleep when he was dead.
With a tired sigh, he headed back down the hall to the baby’s room, knowing he was about to stick his nose where it did not belong. Mama would say he was going to get it cut off one of these days.
The thought put a spring in his step.
The never knowing when was part of life’s adventure.
With the flat of his hand, Nic pushed open the door to room twelve-fifteen and followed the vinegar woman inside.
Cassidy turned from the crib in surprise. Her gaze slid past her grandmother to him. “Nic. I thought you’d left.”
“I did.”
She patted Alex’s back and covered him with a blanket. “Did you forget something?”
“Yeah.”
She glanced around the small room. “What is it?”
He ignored the question. “Is this your grandmother?” And did you know she wants to put Alex up for adoption?
Vinegar lady slid a critical glance over his dirty face and uniform. Her nostrils twitched in distaste. “A fireman, I presume?”
His mama would throttle him if he was rude to his elders. Vinegar lady didn’t know how lucky she was. “Yes, ma’am. Nic Carano. I’m a friend of Cassidy’s.”
Cassidy’s eyes widened at the word friend, but she didn’t deny him. “Nic, this is my grandmother, Eleanor Bassett. Grandmother, Nic rescued Alex from the…house.”
Again, Mrs. Bassett settled narrowed blue eyes on him. The blue eyes were about the only thing she had in common with her granddaughter.
“Thank you, Mr. Carano.” The gratitude seemed to pain her.
“Nic,” he said. Poor Cassidy, if this was her comforting family, she was in a world of hurt. The woman hadn’t so much as hugged her.
“I suppose the Browns have been notified.” Mrs. Bassett perched her narrow backside on the edge of a chair and folded her hands atop an expensive-looking handbag. Dressed in a business suit the color of zucchini, she appeared ready to conduct a board meeting. Or, Nic thought with a hidden grin, be chopped into a salad. Add a dab of oil to the vinegar and voilà, lunch.
“Yes, Grandmother.” Cassidy’s face, so pale before, was now blotchy red. “They’ve been notified.”
If he was a guessing man, he’d say vinegar lady made her granddaughter both anxious and unhappy.
She was starting to do the same to him. Nic Carano did not like to feel either of those emotions. The woman needed an injection of fun. Or cyanide. The bit of internal sarcasm tickled him. He would laugh later.
Mrs. Bassett checked her watch. “They should be arriving soon. If I can drive from Dallas, they should be able to get here from Joplin in equal time.”
“They’ve lost their only son, Grandmother.”
“Yes. A shame, too. Bradley was a good boy. That wind is awful today. My hair’s a mess. I’ll have to call Philippe for a recomb.” She patted the brown fluff around her face. “There are so many details to take care of. I hope they arrive soon. I have a dinner party tonight. We need to get the problems ironed out today.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to miss a dinner party on the day of your granddaughter’s death.” Cassidy’s words were quietly spoken, but the resentment was clear. So were the red splotches covering her cheeks and neck.
What had he walked into? And why didn’t he hit the road before the war broke out?
One look at Cassidy, standing sentry beside Alex’s crib, hands white-knuckled against the railing, gave him his answer. She was fighting to hold herself together, as much for her sister’s baby as for herself. Aunt Cassidy needed his support, whether she wanted it or not. Baby Alex needed him even more.
“Don’t be sarcastic, Cassidy. It isn’t ladylike.” Vinegar lady opened her purse and removed a card. “This is my attorney. He can help work out the details.”
Nic crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, glad to have some plaster to hold up his fatigued body. Cassidy glanced his way as if just remembering he was there. Something flickered behind those baby blues. He gave her a wink of encouragement. She glared back, clearly not wanting him to stay. Call it macho, call it stubborn, but the notion made him even more determined to stick around.
“I don’t know what you mean, Grandmother.” Cassidy took the card, studied the face, turned it over and then back again. “Why do we need a lawyer?”
“Issues of estate. The problem of Alexander.”
Cassidy’s hackles rose. She stood up straighter. “Alex is not a problem.”
“You know what I mean, dear. He’ll need new parents, although the Browns may have some notion of taking him on.”
Taking him on. That’s the way Grandmother had thought of her and Janna, as unpleasant responsibilities she had incurred. The notion would have hurt if Cassidy hadn’t always known.
“No,” Cassidy said with surprising firmness. “Not strangers.”
“Be reasonable, Cassidy. The child is still young enough to be acceptable to adopters.”
“I
