“I’m thinking it can wait until morning.” Aunt Charity was worried.
Honor frowned. “Mom has always been honest with us. She might be disappointed, but she’d rather hear the truth than find out later we lied to her. And we will all be lying to her—by keeping this a secret.” She saw the guilt on her brother’s face and squeezed his hand again.
“Okay,” he whispered.
“Okay.” Aunt Charity didn’t sound remotely okay.
“Well, chances are it would come out anyway.” Diana pointed at her father’s car. “My dad will know. He’s got like this built-in radar for alcohol. Or pills. Or pot. Well, you get it. He’s going to know.”
“Why is he still here?” Nick snapped, his head popping up—before he groaned.
“Why shouldn’t he be here?” Diana snapped back. “Geez, chill out. They’re two consenting adults—”
“Would you knock it off already?” He pushed off the car, stalking up the path. “They’re friends. Period.”
“Sure, friends.” Diana snorted and ran past him to wait on the front stoop.
“Diana,” Aunt Charity called after them. “Nick. Let’s all try to keep a cool head. Okay? This is going to be hard enough.”
Honor followed them up the path, already bracing herself for whatever would happen. She’d done that a lot over the last month. Just when she thought there was nothing left that could knock her off her feet, she was flat on her back again. Not that she was the only one whose new normal meant a constant state of preparing for the worst. Her family was right there with her. But at times that made things worse. How could she turn to them knowing they were in the same position she was in? She couldn’t. Even if she really, really needed someone to talk to.
Diana didn’t bother knocking on the front door. “Everyone decent?” she called out, smiling sweetly at Nick. “We’re back.”
Honor shook her head and closed the door behind them. Like her mom and Dr. Murphy would be having sex. She paused. And if they were—well, what was wrong with that? At least someone was enjoying their evening.
Still, she couldn’t help but wince at the idea.
“Sit,” Charity said to Nick, pointing at one of the overstuffed leather recliners in the living room. “Honor, can you get him some water?” Her eyes narrowed. “And some pain reliever. And I am in serious need of some antacid.” Her aunt’s sad smile reflected the defeat churning in her own stomach.
“Sure thing,” she mumbled, taking another glance at Nick before pushing through the swinging wooden door into the kitchen. “Mom?”
Her mother looked up from the pecan pie she was cutting. She seemed…different. For one thing, she was humming. Her ponytail was off-center and loose. And she was smiling. A really big smile.
She was happy. Really happy. Because she hadn’t walked out of the kitchen and seen Nick.
“Having a nice evening?” Honor asked. She didn’t want to think about Diana’s suggestion, but the seed had been planted. Her mother rarely had a hair out of place. Or creases in her shirt. Or a look like this.
“Yes.” She smiled. “Graham and I have the nursery done, mostly.” She glanced down, her hands running over her shirt, then going up to tackle her messy ponytail. “What happened to the movies?”
“We cut it short,” Honor said, a lump taking up residence in her throat.
“What’s wrong?” Her mother waited. A deep line formed between her brows, and she gave up on trying to smooth her hair.
Honor sighed. “I need to get some antacid for Aunt Charity.” She pull
ed a glass from the cabinet. “And some pain reliever for Nick.”
“Nick? Is he sick? I would have gone to get him so you girls could enjoy your night. Granddad and Mimi didn’t call—”
She faced her mother, medicine in hand. “I don’t think they know he left, Mom.”
Her mother’s shoulders slumped, and her expression faltered. “Oh.” She took the pills and water from Honor. “I see.” Her smile was tight as she pushed through the kitchen door and left Honor alone.
The silence was broken by the ringing of the house phone. Probably Mimi—freaking out over Nick’s disappearance.
“Hello?” she answered.
“This is Robert Klein. I’m looking for Felicity Otto-Buchanan?”