“I thought it might be nice for his nephew to get to know Patrick,” her mother contradicted.
“I’m sure it would be, but I am not bringing Sam within ten miles of anyone in this family just yet. O’Briens tend to get ideas and then try to ram them down the throats of innocent people.”
“Have you ever known me to do such a thing?” Abby asked, an almost believable note of hurt in her voice.
“Only because I’ve never dated anyone seriously in Chesapeake Shores,” Carrie replied. “And because you don’t want me to accuse you of taking after your father.”
Abby laughed then. “Well, that’s true. Okay, come on your own. We’ll try to make do with just your company.”
“I’m so flattered. Love you, Mom.”
“Back at you. See you tonight.”
As soon as she’d disconnected the call, Carrie regretted not agreeing to bring Sam and Bobby along. At least they would have provided a very nice distraction from the night’s likely remaining mission: getting a fix on her plans for the future. She couldn’t help wondering how surprised they were going to be when she arrived with a written list of answers all prepared for them.
Carrie walked into the house that had been her home for most of her life just as her stepfather came down the stairs looking as if he’d just been for a swim fully clothed. She couldn’t seem to stop the grin spreading across her face.
“Did Patrick win the bath war?” she teased.
“Of course he did,” Trace said. “I’m not sure why your mother insists he take a bath when he’s spent the entire day swimming. Nor do I understand why a kid who’s a little fish from morning till night balks at getting into a bathtub.”
Carrie kissed his cheek. “Just to give you a rough time.”
“You and your sister were never this impossible,” Trace said.
“Because we were your little angels,” Carrie replied sweetly. “And we wanted you and Mom to get back together, so we were always on our very best behavior.”
Her mother walked into the foyer just in time to overhear her. “I don’t recall any of that,” she said. “I recall bath times with protests at decibel levels that could have registered down the block. I recall two girls who ran away from home and scared the daylights out of me. I recall—”
Carrie laughed and cut her off. “Mom, you don’t need to recount all of our bad behavior. Let Trace have his illusions.”
Abby slipped an arm affectionately around Trace’s waist, then jerked away. “You’re soaking wet!”
“Thus the comparison of Patrick’s bath-time behavior to Cait’s and mine,” Carrie said. She glanced at Trace, then shook her head at his besotted expression as he stared at his wife. It had always been that way. Unlike her memories of her dad and the nonstop arguments, her memories of her mom and Trace were all colored by the absolute conviction that they loved each other and her and Caitlyn like crazy.
“Maybe I should go upstairs and check on my little brother,” she murmured and moved toward the stairs. “Is he supposed to be in bed or is he coming down here to have dinner with us?”
“He’ll join us,” Abby responded distractedly. “Trace, you need to get out of these wet clothes.”
“Anything you say,” he said, a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he reached for the buttons on his shirt.
“Not here,” Abby protested, but she was laughing. “Impossible man!”
Carrie laughed and left them to their flirting. That, she thought as she climbed the stairs, was what she wanted, a marriage in which the romance stayed alive. It was exactly as Bree, Shanna and Heather had suggested earlier.
She found her little brother, still damp and wearing nothing more than his favorite Spider-Man underpants, sitting on the floor playing with his LEGO. Her grandfather, who’d given Patrick the most expensive set he could find, claimed he was already seeing signs that Patrick would follow in his footsteps as an architect. Given the wobbling structure he was working on now, Carrie wasn’t so sure.
“Hey, bro,” she said, earning a glance and a grin.
“Did you bring me something?” he asked. Patrick was well aware that his big sisters were put on this earth to spoil him.
“Broccoli and spinach,” she replied, keeping her expression serious.
“Yuck!”
“That is no way to show your appreciation for a gift,” she admonished.
“Broccoli and spinach aren’t presents,” he replied reasonably.
“Oh, okay,” she grumbled. She reached into her purse and tossed him the bag of penny candy she’d brought.