“Well, yeah, but how much longer are you gonna do that for?” He shrugs, as if he’s not suggesting evicting me from my home for the past decade. To my father, he says, “Vicki can pay you rent. That way you have two business income streams on the property.”
Jim’s always looking for ways to save or make money.
“I live there,” I repeat, the edge of my fork digging into my thumb as I squeeze it.
“Realistically, it’s the only way Vicki’ll ever be able to afford her own place on the kind of money those two make.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Liz announces.
“Of course, you do.”
She purses her lips. “Vicki has kids to think about. Remember? That’s why you convinced her to move back in here?”
She’s still angry about that.
I brace myself. When Liz is angry, she gets mean.
“Dad already gave you the clinic. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you can claim everything on this property.”
“Nobody’s claimed anything!” Dad sets his fork and knife on the table, his voice rising a notch. “What is going on under this roof? Can we not just have a normal dinner anymore?” He glares at Jim, who stirred the pot. Again.
Tyler’s hand slips under the table to give my thigh a gentle rub. “Hey, girls, why don’t you two show me that game you were playing in the living room before dinner.”
Nicole and Tillie scramble out of their seats and run toward the doorway before their mother can check their plates and hold them back.
Tyler is up quickly after them, aiming for the high chair. “Why don’t I take this one off your hands, too? She looks finished.”
“Oh, I don’t know if she’ll go with you …” Mom’s voice fades as Tyler deftly unbuckles the belt keeping Molly in place and hoists her out with two strong hands around her waist, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.
He lifts her little body high in the air above him before tucking her against his side. “Molly and me will be just fine, won’t we?”
The dimpled smile he treats her to seems to disarm any wariness she might have over the stranger. Her puree-covered hand reaches for his nose to test it with a gurgle of interest, earning his laughter.
I watch in awe as the two of them disappear down the hall, and a swirl of emotions surges in my chest.
Tyler would have made a good father to his son.
He will make a good father.
“Okay, if I weren’t already pregnant, I think watching that would have knocked me up.” Vicki turns her dazed eyes to me. “He is perfect for you, Marie. He loves dogs and babies, and he’s so hot.”
My pulse races. I know. But others see it, too. “We’re just friends.” Dare I hope for more?
From the living room, a sharp whistle cuts through the air, and Yukon and Bentley bolt out of the kitchen.
“See?” Dad holds up his finger in the air. “Dogs always know.”
*
“I hope that wasn’t the worst dinner you’ve ever had.” My mom wrings her hands as she walks us to the door. I’ll bet she’s as relieved as I am that it ended without a cataclysmic screaming match, but she’s suitably embarrassed, regardless.
Tyler’s unexpected and swift removal of the children seemed to disarm the bomb about to detonate, allowing everyone a moment to calm down and reevaluate words that likely would’ve caused lasting damage once they were spoken. Jim and Liz left soon after, citing Jim’s workload and Liz’s condition for their speedy departure. Vicki escaped upstairs to bathe Molly and ready her for bed. Tyler tried to find a spot next to me at the sink, but my mother chased him off, so he ended up parked on the couch where my father regaled him with countless stories about Earl Hatchett and other mushers who became more than just clients.
When I emerged from the kitchen, Aurora’s chin was resting on Tyler’s knee as his fingers moved in a slow, circular pattern over her forehead. I’ve never seen her get that close to anyone besides my mother.
“Actually, Marie specifically promised me a horrible dinner, and didn’t deliver on it.”
“Oh.” My mom laugh-snorts and shakes her head. “Did she mean my cooking or the company?”
Tyler’s eyes sparkle as he towers over my tiny mother and charms her. “Both were enjoyable, Eleanor. Thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome!” my father hollers from the depths of the house, where he’s settled into his chair. “See you again, if you’re crazy enough to return.”