"More like they were on the verge of asking me to call them Mom and Dad." Dani sat cross-legged on her bed. "Well, Mrs. Grayson was anyway. She did most of the talking on their behalf."
"That's so great that she liked you. One thing I will not miss about Nolan is his mother. She always acted like the age difference between us meant I was too immature for her worldly son." She gave a lopsided smile. "Maybe next time, I'll go for someone younger. Could be fun to have a boy-toy."
Dani didn't get the sense that "fun" was how most people described Bryce Grayson, but she couldn't forget the way his eyes lit up when he'd mentioned her friend. "Your name came up tonight, by the way. Seems you made quite an impression on Bryce."
"Oh?" Meg kept her voice neutral, but telltale color stained her cheeks. "A good impression, or a 'who let her into the club?' impression?"
"Definitely good. Can I infer from the blush that he made an equally favorable impression? How come you didn't mention that you'd talked to him?"
Meg cast her gaze downward, suddenly fascinated by the nondescript beige carpeting. "Noticing that he's attractive felt like betraying you. You wanted him first."
"First of all, you'd have to be blind not to notice he's attractive. And I hardly knew the guy." As evidenced by her confusing him with someone else. "Whatever thoughts I may have had about him at one time, you know I'm not interested in Bryce anymore."
"Yeah, but you're dating his twin brother. Wouldn't it be awkward if I pursued a guy who's identical to your boyfriend?"
"This may sound weird, but the more time I spend with Sean, the less he looks like Bryce. They're really different."
Meg took a second to process that, then shook her head. "It's a moot point anyway. I ran into him the one time, but it isn't as though I frequent country clubs."
"I mentioned where you work," Dani admitted. "I don't know if he'll look you up or not, but he's invested enough to ask about you."
Meg giggled. "You remember when I went through that phase of trying to set you up with Jamie because I wanted us to be sisters-in-law? I suppose if we eventually married brothers, I could still get my wish."
Dani flopped back on the bed with a groan. "What is it with all you people who have marriage on your minds?"
"It was just hypothetical."
"Still. I couldn't be less interested in thinking about that kind of commitment right now." If ever. "I thought I knew Tate. We were together for years, and I narrowly escaped hitching myself to a cheat and a liar. You don't celebrate an escape by looking for new traps. All I want is a little fun."
"Well, that's how love gets you," Meg said philosophically. "You start out having fun with someone, enjoying each other so much that one day, out of the clear blue sky-"
"Love hits you like an emotional anvil?" Dani rolled her eyes. "Jeez, sign me up for that."
* * *
"TEARJERKER OR ACTION MOVIE?" Sean asked when Dani opened her door Friday night. The latest in a superhero franchise was vying for lead at the box office with a deeply emotional film already getting Oscar buzz.
Dani snorted. "Like I want to pay thirteen dollars so I can sit in a crowded theater and cry off my eye makeup? Action, please."
He kissed her hello. "My kind of girl."
She grabbed a lightweight sweater in case the air-conditioned theater got too chilly and followed him outside. As she was locking the front door, the phone in her purse sounded. She checked to see if the call was from Meg. Usually her friend was home from work by now.
But it was her dad's number that flashed across the screen, which surprised her. Other than a flurry of concerned calls surrounding the wedding date, the Major wasn't really a phone person.
"Hey, Dad."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Danica. Are you...are you busy?"
Her gaze flicked to Sean. "I do have plans tonight. Did you need something?" He sounded strange, lacking his usual crisp, commanding intonation.
"No," he said too quickly. "Just wanted to hear your voice."
The more he spoke, the easier it was to detect the slur in his words. Belatedly, she recalled the date and its significance to her father. He hadn't let himself grieve in front of her often, but some years had been worse than others. "Daddy, have you been drinking?"
"I'm over twenty-one, Danica Leigh."
She moved the phone away from her face a moment. "Can we make a stop on the way to the theater? Well, not on the way in the strictest sense." They would miss the coming attraction previews for sure. "Dad, you sit tight. I'll be there soon."
Ending the call, she slid into the passenger seat of Sean's SUV with a worried sigh. "It's the anniversary of my mom's death," she said quietly. She rarely remembered, except when her father had one of his spells. "I think Dad's been drinking." First Meg at the country club and now this. "I swear not all the people in my life are lushes. You're catching us on a bad week."
Sean's hand dropped to her thigh. "People make questionable decisions when they're hurting. Hell, I'm living proof that people make questionable decisions, period."
She gave him directions to her dad's place, keeping one eye on the time. They were going to miss more than the previews. Maybe they could go to the later showing.
It took them about half an hour to reach the duplex where her father lived. The entire neighborhood was populated with retirees, and the parking lot was full of Buicks and Cadillacs from a bygone era. Not bothering to knock, she let herself in with her spare key.
"Dad? It's me. I'm here with a friend."
There was a shattering crash and some swearing from the next room. "In the kitchen," her father called back. The pungent scent of whiskey wafted down the hall to greet them. He must have knocked over a bottle. At least that meant there was less left for him to actually drink.
"He never does this," she told Sean, aware that the circumstances under which they were meeting each other's parents were radically different. Her family might only be made up of two people, but between her and her father, they had plenty of baggage.
When they walked into the kitchen, they found the Major trying to clean up spilled whiskey and broken glass. Photo albums were spread across the wooden, two-seater table.
"Daddy?"
The Major whirled, years of training and honed reflexes momentarily overcoming the booze. "Dammit. You shouldn't have to see me like... You look so much like her." He squinted, trying to peer past her shoulder into the dark hall behind her. "That better not be Tate with you. Lowlife cheating-"
"This is Sean Grayson. He's a friend. He's going to get you some water while I clean this up. You sit down," she said firmly. Of the three of them, her father was the only one barefoot.
She put her hands on his shoulders and gently steered him toward a chair. He seemed too preoccupied with Sean's presence to notice.
"Are you a lowlife cheat?" the Major asked.
"No, sir."
"Good. Dani deserves better."
"I couldn't agree more, sir." Sean leaned over, studying one of the open albums while Dani got the broom and dustpan out of the pantry. "This must be your wife? She's very beautiful." Glancing in Dani's direction, he added, "You do look just like her."
A fact she well knew. It had been evident since she hit puberty that she was going to grow into the spitting image of a mother she'd barely known and couldn't remember. It was disorienting at times, to look at photos and see a face that mirrored her own. Then again, what must Sean's life be like, to stare into Bryce's face and see contempt or annoyance reflected on his own features?
Major Yates dropped his hand to one plastic-protected page. "She was my soul mate." His expression turned dreamy for a moment, his smile making him look years younger. "It's such a blessing to find that one person you were meant to be with."
Dani bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears at her dad's loneliness. Was he right? From a purely selfish standpoint, since it meant being born, she was glad he'd married her mother. But if he hadn't been so convinced that Gina Yates had been his "one and only," would he be remarried now? Growing old with someone who cared for him instead of drinking alone with only faded pictures for company?