to move. Plus,” he added, just to prove he was no candidate for sainthood, “Comeback Cove is a small town. My choices were to stay and be stared at or let them stay and, well—”
“Be the hottest gossip in decades?”
“That’s about it.”
“Good for you.”
“I’m not sure that I should be congratulated for it,” he said. “But it seemed like the best choice at the time.”
“So you decided to move, and you picked Stratford.”
“More like Helene told Moxie about you needing a tenant, and it was far enough from home that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, and I was up for anything that didn’t require me to do a whole lot of thinking.”
“And here I thought you chose it because you wanted to walk the streets where Justin Bieber grew up.”
Ah, the Sass Queen was back.
“So,” she said after a moment. “That explains why you haven’t gone home much since you moved in.”
“Yeah.”
“Once in two years, unless I’ve forgotten something.”
He glanced sideways. “Your point, Darce?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but wonder why you’re going back now.”
The truth sat heavy in his gut. Part of him longed to tell her about the charitable foundation Moxie was adding to the dairy—the foundation she wanted him to lead, if he could handle being home. If Xander hadn’t reappeared he might have said something, but Darcy had had enough shockers for one day.
Besides, nothing was definite. What was the point of worrying her when he wasn’t even sure himself if he could do this?
“It’s time,” he said at last. “I don’t want one piece of my past to take over the rest of my life.”
“Very wise.”
“Plus, it’s Father’s Day, and my mom is throwing a big thing for my dad. I don’t want to hurt him by being the only one of his kids to not show up.”
“Did it ever occur to you that the only reason your mom is doing this is to force you to come home?”
“Of course it is. Ma hates hoopla. You know how she spends Mother’s Day?”
“How?”
“She goes to church, then goes back to bed and spends the whole day there, alone. She reads. She naps. She orders pizza for dinner. It’s been like that since we were kids.”
“Oh, my God, seriously? That sounds like the best Mother’s Day ever. What a smart woman.”
“A smart, overworked woman who needed a break.” Much like the one swaying softly in the hammock across from him.
“Someday I’m going to do that. It sounds like bliss.” Her voice switched from wistful to practical in the space of one quick sigh. “But anyway. You. You think you’re ready for this?”
“It’s been two years.”
“I can do math, North. I didn’t ask you how long it had been. I asked if you’re ready.”
Correction: a smart, overworked, stubborn woman. “I think so.” Especially when sitting on a porch with the setting sun wrapping them in shadows, surrounded by Darcy’s laugh and her fierce concern and—yeah—that damned pink top that dipped a little lower than she probably realized.
Taylor was a very distant memory when he was with Darcy.
“I think I’m ready,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“You blacksmiths. Always shoving things into fires.”
“I’m not planning any long heartfelt talks with either Carter or Taylor, if that’s what you mean. I’ll settle for being in the same room without going bat-shit crazy.”
“I’ll pack some of my mom’s happy pills, just in case.”
It took him a second to process her meaning.
“You’re coming with me?”
“Only because I think you’ll need the moral support.” There was a slightly evil cast to her grin that made him feel as though his beer wasn’t sitting well. “And I always thought Carter was a snot-nosed brat who acted like he was better than the rest of you, so I’m going to love being able to mock him silently anytime I see him.”
“Darce—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll behave. The last thing I want is to make things worse for you.”
“Damn. I was going to tell you that you didn’t have to keep it silent.” He shrugged. “Listen, this is nothing compared to you and Cady, but so you know—the whole reason Xander came back in the first place was because he wanted Lulu.”
“He what?”
“Yep. Something about seeing himself in his new life, walking the straight and narrow with his faithful canine companion at his side.”
“You’re kidding.” For a second the indignant light in her face faded to something more like worry and fear and something else, something that made him want to gather her close and stroke her hair and promise her that everything would be okay.
Lucky for him, the moment passed as quickly as it had appeared.
* * *
NO MATTER HOW much she longed to sleep in the next morning, Darcy pushed her reluctant self out of bed while the sun was just beginning to brighten the sky. If she was going to have herself and Cady ready for a ten-o’clock departure, she needed to take full advantage of the golden hour before her girlie started moving.
She threw laundry into the dryer, fired up her laptop and tossed jars and pouches of baby food into a bag, all while waiting for the coffee to brew. As soon as it was ready she filled her mug and carried it to the porch for what was usually the best fifteen minutes of her morning.
Too bad she had to spend it calling her mother today.
Sylvie was in London this week, meaning it was already late morning for her, meaning there was a decent chance she would be awake. No guarantee, but the odds were high. Darcy couldn’t count how many times in the past year she had given thanks that her own sleep cycle had come from her father instead of her mother.
“Darcy?”
Yep. Mom might technically be awake, but alert and functional were still hours away. If luck was really on Darcy’s side, she could get through this conversation before Sylvie woke up enough to become annoyed.
“’Morning, Mom. How’re you and the queen this fine day?”
“Don’t be an ass,
