“Yes. I will have room for you.”
“Then you should do it.”
“Harlow’s not happy. She wants to get married in the backyard and says I should keep the house until her wedding.”
He rolled his eyes. “Harlow needs to get over herself. She’s not the one who has to pay the mortgage. She’s my sister and I love her, but sometimes, she’s too entitled.”
Robyn pulled the casserole out of the oven. “You mean like letting your friends eat all your groceries, then expecting your mom to make dinner?”
He grinned. “Exactly like that.”
* * *
“I was a jerk,” Jase said when they were seated at the restaurant.
Robyn stared at him. “Interesting opening line.”
He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I thought I’d state the obvious and see how it went from there.”
After his non-apology apology text, she hadn’t heard from Jase for a few days. Then this morning he’d texted her and asked her to meet him for dinner at a local seafood place.
She’d taken her time agreeing, not sure if there was a point to them continuing to see each other. No doubt the smart decision was to rethink their relationship—the only problem being she’d missed him enough to make her realize she wanted it to work out between them.
“Last time,” he continued. “When I was at your place. I know I was difficult.”
“Moody,” she offered helpfully. “And a little judgy.”
He looked at her without smiling. “Yes to both. It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks.”
He took one of her hands in his. “I lost a patient. She’s been in and out of the hospital. She’s had a couple of heart attacks.” He drew in a breath. “I can’t get into the details.”
“Of course not.”
“She died the day I came over. It hit me hard. I knew it could happen, but when it did, I wasn’t ready. Her family was devastated. She had eight grandkids.”
Regret filled her. “I wish you’d told me. I don’t need specifics, Jase, but some small amount of information would be very helpful.”
“I know. If it was just that, I would have been okay. But there’s more.”
Their server appeared to tell them about the specials and get their drink orders. When he left, Jase’s gaze met hers.
“It’s Galen.”
His oldest daughter? “Is she all right?”
He dropped his head for a second. “She’s anorexic.”
“What?” Galen had always been thin, but anorexic? “When did you find out?”
“We got a call from the camp. She hadn’t been eating. I knew she was skinny, but she wore baggy clothes and we thought she was fine.” Tears filled his dark eyes. “We got her into a special program in Miami. I’ve been getting her settled these past few days. Plus we had to deal with Grayce. We talked about bringing her home, but in the end, let her stay in camp. She has friends there, and the counselors are watching out for her.”
Now she reached for his other hand. “Jase, I’m sorry. This is such a nightmare.”
“What if she’s not okay?” he asked, his voice trembling. “What if this is my fault? I work a lot, her mother works a lot. We’ve had trouble keeping a nanny. Maybe there wasn’t enough consistency.”
Robyn doubted consistency was the problem, but didn’t say that. From what she could tell, both girls were scheduled every moment. There was no time to just be, to think, to imagine, to get bored. She would also guess they needed their parents around a little more.
“You know the situation now,” she said instead. “That will help. It’s going to be a process.” Not exactly helpful, but she didn’t know what else to offer. She’d never had to deal with the disorder.
Jase released her hands and cleared his throat. “The whole time I was gone, I kept thinking about your kids being so normal. Okay, Austin didn’t go to college, but he’s a solid kid. He fucking eats.”
Jase held up a hand. “I apologize for swearing.”
“It’s okay.”
He shook his head. “It’s not. I lie awake at night and think of all the things I used to worry about happening when Galen went to high school. I figured drugs, or some guy knocking her up. I never thought she’d stop eating. I never thought she might die.”
Robyn had no idea what to say to him. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Me, too.” He looked at her. “I’ve been thinking about you so much. Through all I’m dealing with, I wonder how you’d handle it. You’re not like us—you didn’t push your kids to achieve. You’re relaxed. Austin’s refusal to go to college would devastate me, but you went with the flow.”
Their server appeared with their drinks, then left. Jase wrapped his hand around his scotch.
“Look at Harlow,” he added. “She’s working for her dad. Not exactly at a ‘change the world’ profession, but she’s happy. Engaged. Normal. I envy that.”
Robyn was trying to stick to the positives, but it felt like there were little digs buried in his compliments.
“Maybe it’s because you weren’t pushed yourself as a kid,” he continued. “You married young and got pregnant right away. You didn’t go to college.” He smiled ruefully. “I used to think that was a problem. I worried we wouldn’t have anything in common because you weren’t educated, but I was wrong. I might have gone to medical school, but you’re the one who knows how to raise happy, healthy kids.”
“Like an idiot savant?” she asked dryly, telling herself not to take what he was saying personally. He was in a bad place and not thinking about his words.
“What? No. Of course not. More like an earth mother. Like how mother bears know how to look after their young. It wasn’t bred out of you.”
“Or erased by too much learning.”
He set down his drink. “You’re angry. What did I say?”
She held up a hand. “Let it go, and I’ll try to do the same.” She didn’t want to fight with him. Not tonight. He had too much going on. Later she would slap him upside the head, but right now, she was going to play nice.
He looked confused. “But I was complimenting you. I think you’re a great mother.”
“Because I’m hearty, uneducated peasant stock?” she asked before she could stop herself. He was really starting to annoy her.
“Robyn, no.”
She told herself to change the subject, then blurted, “What did you mean when you said you worried we wouldn’t have anything in common?”
He leaned back, obviously uncomfortable. “That we, ah, come from different worlds. I’m a doctor surrounded by professionals. My ex-wife is a principal. Just job stuff.”
“Not just job stuff. You’re way too uncomfortable for that.”
“You have to admit our circumstances are different. I’m a doctor.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.”
“You work in retail. Part-time. You don’t have any ambition. At first I thought you were dating me because you wanted to marry a successful doctor. To give you security.”