“Then why are you so insistent about staying now?”
“Because I’ve finally seen what a mistake it was for me to go,” he said, then grinned. “And despite what you’ve said, I don’t think you want me gone.”
“I do,” she said, but her answer was halfhearted.
“Do you really?” he asked. “Aren’t you beginning to mellow just a little bit? Didn’t you notice how well we worked together last night, as if we could read each other’s minds? Haven’t you noticed how well we’ve worked together to present a united front to Annie? Individually, we’re both pretty good parents, but together we’re awesome.”
She’d noticed all of that, but she didn’t trust it. She couldn’t. “I won’t have this conversation with you,” she said, jerking her gaze away before she could fall under his spell and into his arms. “You’re only here right now because of Annie. I thought you could help me plan her homecoming.”
He backed down at once, clearly sensing that she was reaching the end of her patience. “I’d love to do that. And there’s something I’d like to tell you about if there’s time.”
“Let’s sit in the kitchen,” she said, hoping there would be fewer memories in there since it had always been her domain. “Let’s focus on Annie’s homecoming, okay? I’ll fix us some sweet tea.”
His narrowed gaze suggested he knew it was the last thing she ought to be drinking. “I’ll use sugar substitute,” she said.
“Did you hear me say a word?” he asked.
“No, but we both know you know something, or think you do. Since I don’t want to discuss it, you’ll just have to take my word that I know what I should and shouldn’t put in my mouth.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said placatingly. “And you’re smart enough to follow the doctor’s orders, I’m sure.”
“I am,” she said. At least when she remembered, or wasn’t driven to indulge in comfort food to suppress her exasperation with this man.
She put water on to boil, pulled tea bags from the cupboard, then grabbed a handful of sweetener packets. “Satisfied?” she asked as she tore them open and dumped the contents in the water, then added the tea bags.
“Thrilled,” he commented wryly.
Scowling, she looked him in the eye. “One thing about you I’ve noticed hasn’t changed.”
“Oh?”
“You’re still annoying as hell.”
He grinned. “I prefer to think of myself as a good jump-start to your metabolism.”
“You wish,” she scoffed, but she had to bite back a chuckle.
There were times, though she would rather eat dirt than admit it, when having Ronnie around again reminded her of what she’d felt like when she was totally and completely alive. To her chagrin she hadn’t felt that way—not even once—since he’d left.
She put such thoughts out of her mind.
* * *
Annie wasn’t sure what made her happier, being home again or seeing her mom and dad under the same roof and making a genuine attempt to get along, even if they were only doing it for her sake.
They’d gotten home just before lunchtime, and her mom had insisted they all sit down together for sandwiches and tea. She’d made turkey on whole-grain bread, then cut them diagonally into quarters, the way Annie had liked them when she was little. Instinctively, she’d known to put the sections on a plate in the middle of the table, rather than placing a huge sandwich in front of Annie.
Annie knew both of her parents were watching her like a hawk as she took one little section and put it on her plate, then added a tiny scoop of her mom’s potato salad. There had been a time when she could have eaten the whole bowl, but a taste was about all she could manage now without wanting to run from the table and hurl. Still, it was progress, and she guessed from their expressions that her mom and dad got that. To her chagrin, Annie also knew that Lacy had given them a very precise list of what she was to eat and at what time, every single day. The regimen wasn’t going to change just because she was out from under the watchful eye of the nurses at the hospital.
“Erik sent over some of his cinnamon ice cream for later,” her mom told her. “He thought maybe we could have that when everyone drops by.”
“Awesome,” Annie said, surprised that the idea actually held some appeal. Erik’s homemade ice cream was amazing. When he’d been working on getting the recipe down pat at the restaurant, Annie had only tasted it, but she bet her mom had eaten five gallons. “You didn’t invite a lot of people, did you?”
“Just the ones we talked about,” her mom assured her. “And they won’t stay long. They’re coming around seven, after dinner, just the way you wanted.”
“Thanks.” She took a bite of the sandwich and forced herself to swallow. To her surprise, it tasted pretty good, better than the sandwiches in the hospital, somehow. Maybe because her mom had made it. Annie took another bite.
“You should get some rest after lunch,” her dad said. “You don’t want to overdo things on your first day home.”
Annie frowned at him. “All I did was walk in from the car,” she protested. “Even at the hospital, they made me go in a stupid wheelchair. It was totally lame.”
Her dad grinned. “You didn’t seem to complain much at the time. I noticed the orderly was pretty cute.”
Annie rolled her eyes as she ate another bite of the sandwich, finishing off the little section. “Puh-leeze. Kenny’s, like, twenty-three. I’m pretty sure he flunked out of high school. That’s probably the best job he’ll ever have.”
“Nice to know you have high standards,” Ronnie teased. “Just don’t be too quick to judge people. You never know what hidden talents they
