Feeling a bit punch-drunk, Connor and I made our goodbyes to Lucas a little after four, then drove back to his apartment, which did feel a little cramped and small after the splendor of the house in Forest Highlands. I couldn’t drink champagne, obviously, but Connor broke out a bottle of San Pellegrino, and we ended up toasting with that.
But after the high faded a bit, he asked, “So what are you going to tell your family?”
Crap. “The truth, obviously.” Much as I really didn’t want to do that, I knew it was only fair. “They’re going to have to come to terms with it eventually. You and I are together, and you can’t relocate to Jerome permanently, and I can’t live here in Flagstaff permanently. They’re just going to have to…share…us.”
“That sounds very reasonable,” Connor said. “Which means they’re probably going to bitch and moan.”
“Not probably,” I told him. “They will.” I paused, thinking. The wheels had been set in motion, so unless the house inspector found termites or wood rot or lead paint — none of which was very likely in a newer-construction luxury home — that meant in less than two weeks Connor and I would own a home together. The McAllisters and the Wilcoxes would just have to learn to work together, and I figured there was no time like the present. “Maybe if we sat down with everyone and told them how it was going to be….”
“‘Everyone’ who? The McAllister elders?”
“Well, yes, them, but also the Wilcox elders.”
“We’re not really set up the same way,” Connor pointed out. “I mean, Lucas and Marie served sort of the same function in some ways, but since she’s disappeared off the face of the planet — ”
“Yes, but we still have Lucas. Can you think of a better ambassador for the Wilcox clan than him?”
Connor didn’t reply right away, only rubbed a hand over his chin, apparently deep in thought. Then he asked, “Margot’s one of your elders, right?”
“Yes, so?”
“I can only imagine the scene if Lucas tries to buy her a drink.”
I couldn’t help grinning. “Well, if she has any brains, she’ll take him up on it. Anyway, they’re adults — I’ll let them sort it out.”
“I smell a disaster.”
As much as I wanted to call him out for his negativity, I had a feeling that Connor had a point. But we all needed to move forward, to understand that we were treading new ground here, and getting the clans to cooperate was part of that bigger picture. Yes, we still had to work on that damn curse, but I also wanted to make sure I left behind a more stable relationship between the two clans, should the worst happen and I not be around to raise my children. Connor and the two extended families would all have to do it together.
Who knows…maybe that would turn out to be my legacy.
* * *
Since she seemed the most sympathetic to my situation of the three elders, I called Allegra Moss to say Connor and I would be coming back to Jerome over the weekend, and we had some important matters to discuss.
“Yes, I imagine you do,” she said in her sweet voice, one that always sounded as if it had a hidden undercurrent of laughter in it.
“And — I want to bring Connor’s cousin Lucas with us.”
Silence for a second or two. Then she asked, “Whatever for?”
“Because what I have to say concerns both our families, and — well, Lucas is sort of the clan elder for the Wilcoxes. He’s been an enormous help to Connor and me. So I want him there when we all sit down to talk.”
“Margot and Bryce won’t like it,” she warned me.
“They don’t have to like it,” I said, my tone curt. “They just have to be there. Let’s tentatively plan for meeting at my house at one-thirty on Saturday.”
Whether it was because she heard a note of command in my voice, or whether she didn’t want to argue with someone she thought might be experiencing some early-pregnancy mood swings, she replied quickly, “Of course, Angela. I’ll let them know. You take care.”
“You, too,” I said, and hung up.
* * *
Although I’d gotten permission to bring Lucas with me to the house on Saturday, I thought it would be pushing things to have him stay anywhere in Jerome. Cottonwood was still technically McAllister territory, but having him put up for a night or two there wasn’t quite the same thing as impinging on Jerome’s hallowed ground, so I suggested he see if he could find a place down the hill where he could stay. If not, I’d have him crash in the guest bedroom, and we’d all just have to deal with the consequences.