“No, but—”
“Then it’s fine.”
I make a strangled sound. “People have hosted entire wedding receptions for the cost of this dinner party for nine people.” Warner and Preston are coming with dates, and apparently, Margo always comes to this annual event, too, so when she caught wind of dinner at our place beforehand, she invited herself plus Joel.
“Just imagine what our wedding reception will cost. Are you still reading?” Henry’s unspoken request that I shut off the light.
“It seems excessive.” I flip the switch, throwing the room into darkness. That’s fine, I can never read in bed when he’s here, anyway. I can’t focus on anything but him.
“So was picking you up from Greenbank in a helicopter, but you didn’t complain then.”
I search for a retort but can’t come up with a suitable one. Besides, that stunt was so worth it when I saw the look of defeat on Jed’s face.
Henry sighs. “You’re marrying me, Abigail. You need to get used to a certain lifestyle.” He only uses my full name anymore when he’s lecturing me. After another beat, he adds, “If it makes you feel better, whatever we spend on Saturday, why don’t you donate double that amount to a charity of your choice.”
I do the quick math. That does help my conscience. “Any charity?”
“Any charity your heart desires.”
I shift closer to him, pressing my lips against his bare shoulder. “What about something for ALS?”
His chest rises with a deep breath. He’s been hiding in work for most of the afternoon and evening, but I sense him hiding even deeper in his thoughts. Just last week, he was mulling over his life, feeling the pressure of being the only Wolf left. And in the last twenty-four hours, he has discovered that’s not true.
“Have you ever known anyone with it?” he asks quietly.
“No. Not personally,” I admit. “You? Before now, I mean.”
“One of my father’s best friends. He lived with it for almost ten years before his body gave up. He died five years ago.”
“Did you know him well?” I ask softly.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. We golfed together for years. He was a big man and loud. Deep, booming laugh. It was hard watching his body stop working. I kept expecting to hear that laugh.” Henry pauses. “It’s unfair that Audrey couldn’t have more time with Violet. At least see her grow up.”
“It is unfair,” I agree. “But diseases don’t care what’s fair. They don’t care if you’ve been a good person, or which god you pray to, or if you believe in one at all. They don’t care who you leave behind.”
Henry lifts his arm to wrap around me, pulling me up until my body is draped over his.
I inhale the delicious scent of soap still lingering on his hot skin. “I felt terrible for Audrey’s parents. Having to bury their child and finish raising a teenager at their age? I mean, they must be in their late seventies or—”
“Eighty-four. Both of them. They had Audrey later in life.”
“How do you …” My question fades as it dawns on me. “You had Dyson look into them.”
“Of course I did,” he says matter-of-factly. “They’re legal guardians of my child. I needed to make sure there weren’t going to be any surprises.”
Those words—my child—stir an odd emotion in the pit of my stomach that I can’t quite decipher. “From an eighty-four-year-old couple? Such as?” I struggle to hide my exasperation. Sometimes Henry is too much.
“Debts, criminal records, history of drinking or abuse. Anything that could affect Violet negatively.”
Worse than her mother’s crimes? No use speaking ill of the dead. “And what did you find out?”
“Howard worked as an electrician, Gayle was a teacher. They paid off their house twenty years ago and don’t owe anything else. Howard has had one speeding ticket in his life, neither drink, and they spent a lot of time helping Audrey out around her house.”
Dyson’s been busy, invading privacy and ferreting out information. I don’t know how he finds out half the stuff he does, and it’s best I don’t. “So, you’re saying they’re good people.”
“Yes. They’re good people,” he admits. “Who are going to struggle with a teenager who lies and takes trains into Manhattan. Gayle broke her hip five years ago, which is why she walks with a cane now. They were on a waiting list to move into an assisted living center but pulled their names off a year ago. I assume it’s because Audrey’s condition was deteriorating quickly and they knew they’d have Violet to take care of.”