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“Relax, Bridget. I know. But I had to bust your door down to get inside, and we haven’t replaced it yet because we didn’t want to disturb you with the noise of installing a new one. So I’ll take you somewhere to stay for tonight, and Tristin has someone coming in later to replace the door.”

“My car,” she said as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I left it at the diner. It wouldn’t start.”

“The police found it and called me. Brick arranged for it to be taken to a repair shop.”

“I can’t afford that, Zane. You should have brought it here. Marlowe can fix it better than any repair shop.”

He gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile. “I know, but we wanted to check to make sure the doctor didn’t tamper with it to give himself an excuse to drive you home.”

She paled. “And did he?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t called to check in. There’s no need to worry though. Brick’ll take care of it and get your car back to you tomorrow. I promise.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Okay. I guess we can stay in a hotel. Does Grayson Cove even have one?”

He smirked. “Yes, but you’re not staying there. I have somewhere else you can stay and someone who wants all three of you to be her guests.”

She shook her head. “I’m not up to meeting new people.”

“Then I guess it’s good you’ve already met. It’s my mother. She has plenty of room in her house, and she’s looking forward to having you stay. She said it’s her way of thanking you for taking such good care of me in the hospital.”

“I can’t impose on her like that. I think it’s better if the kids and I spent the evening alone. I wanted them to see I’m alright.”

“It’s okay, Bridget. My mother would be the first to tell you there’s nothing wrong with letting the kids see you’re human. You can be strong and still accept help from people. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She leaned back against the headboard, almost in defeat. “I know. The kids have been through so much though. I don’t want to add to that.”

“You haven’t. None of this is your fault. I promise, you won’t regret hanging out with my mom. I speak from experience when I say an evening of her home cooking and TLC is the perfect remedy for just about anything.”

“Zane, um, thank you. For…you know. I don’t know how you happened to be here, but I don’t care. I hate to think of him hurting the kids after…he…” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she couldn’t finish her sentence. But she didn’t have to. Zane understood.

“You’re welcome. There’s no rush. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you and the kids to my mom’s.”

He stood and walked to the door. He glanced back, catching her gaze as she stared at him in wonder. He nodded at her and stepped out, both curious and uneasy about what she was thinking.

Chapter Seventeen

The Wilder home smelled of cookies. Each room Bridget peered in, the sweet aroma of flour and vanilla assailed her nostrils, and she was oddly comforted. Everything about the house spoke of love, from the carefully decorated rooms to the neat but lived-in feel, to the framed photos on the walls, depicting their family at various times in their lives — graduations, ball games, dance recitals, holidays, or even a random Tuesday. Family was important here, and Bridget felt a longing to linger.

Even knowing she should search out her kids to check on them, she tarried in the hallway outside the guest room she’d been given. Her eyes focused on the photo encased in a simple eight-by-ten frame. It was a family photo, but not one she expected to see. No one was looking into the camera. No one wore the forced cheesy smiles that presented a false sense of happiness and perfection. Their clothes weren’t smooth and clean and in place, and their hair wasn’t perfectly combed and styled.

She smiled as she read the frustration on the parents’ faces. They twisted in their seats on the front steps of the house, trying to reach their children. The mom’s hair was rumpled, the father’s thinning strands stood on end. The baby in the mother’s lap cried, his face bright red with his displeasure, and he had spit up on his clothes. The three young girls who stood behind their parents were like doorsteps with their size, but the resemblance in their angelic faces and dark hair was strong. The tallest extended her bottom lip in a perfect pout, her little arms crossed defiantly over her chest. The one next to her had pulled the bow from her hair, the dark locks falling onto her face, and she had her dress lifted to yank at the white tights she wore with obvious displeasure. The little girl on the other end made a silly face at the camera, and Bridget could almost hear her taunting the photographer until he snapped the photo of the chaotic moment.

Bridget turned when she heard a soft laugh behind her. Maggie Wilder stepped up, her eyes trained on the photo.

“So much went wrong that day. The photographer was a friend of my husband’s, and he offered to take a portrait of our family as a gift. I was so excited. I planned every detail, how we’d pose, what we would wear. I had a vision of us taking the kind of family portrait you would see in a magazine. But Zane spit up on his clothes more than once, so there was no hope of him wearing the outfit I’d chosen. David wasn’t feeling well. He was running a fever when we took the photo. I wanted to cancel it, but he’d insisted we go through with it.

“And then my girls. Zoe was mad because she couldn’t wear the dress she wanted to wear. Zaylee was upset because she wanted to sit in my lap, but I insisted she stand with her sisters while I held her brother. And Zaida. She wanted to play down by the creek instead of getting dressed up for some dumb picture as she called it. We managed to get a few perfect poses out of everyone, but overall, I was so disappointed the day hadn’t gone the way I pictured.”

Bridget glanced at her, bewildered. “If you had other poses to choose from, why did you frame this one?”

A wistful smile graced her lips, giving Maggie a youthful glow. “Later that night, David’s fever was gone, and he was feeling better. Zane took his evening bottle and didn’t spit it up. The girls were happy again and wanting to catch lightning bugs. So we went back out to the porch. David wrapped his arms around me as we sat on those same steps. Zane was asleep in my lap. The air was warm but not humid. The night was lit up by the prettiest moon I’d ever seen and by what felt like millions of lightning bugs. The girls chased them around the yard, helping each other catch them in jars. And for the first time all day, I felt like everything was perfect. That’s when David reminded me that forcing our family to be who they aren’t will never work the way we want. But the moment we let go of our expectations and let everyone be their true selves, that’s when we found peace. I chose this picture because it was the real depiction of that day. It reminds me of how unique our family is and of how chaos can lead to some amazing memories.”

“That’s beautiful.” Bridget’s voice was low as she felt her emotions rise to the surface. She had been on the verge of tears every waking moment since that morning, and feeling like she gave her niece and nephew painful memories made her more emotional.

Maggie seemed to snap herself out of her reminiscing, and she turned to Bridget with a wide smile. “How is your room? Is there anything you need?”

Bridget shook her head. “No, everything’s great. Thank you. I’m sorry we’ve invaded your home without any notice.”