Page 12 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

If only Claire could be the recipient of as much fortune. Her smile sagged a bit at the thought.

“So, show me the pictures,” she demanded in her best older-sister, authoritative voice. She desperately needed distraction from her own bleak mood.

Sophie winced a bit and exchanged a meaningful glance with Trevor.

“What?” Claire looked from one to the other, having the suspicion she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Mom and Dad are coming over to see the pictures,” Sophie admitted, looking guilty.

“Soph.” Claire grimaced. “When are they coming?” A slightly evil inner voice added, I can leave before they get here .

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her parents, because she did.

It was just that she’d been avoiding them both—mostly her mother—as much as possible lately.

Her mother was absolutely in love with Garrett, and every time Claire saw her, she was treated to endless sermons on the benefits of marital counseling. It got old.

Not to mention the tiny issue of the paternity of the baby. Okay, so it wasn’t tiny. It was rather large and rather important, especially since Claire’s mother still thought Garrett was the father.

“When are they going to be here, Sophie?” Claire asked again when her sister stalled.

“Well…” Sophie hedged. Two short honks of a car horn burst through the silence. “That would be them pulling into the driveway now.”

“Sophie.” Claire pulled aside the curtain and peered out the window to see her petite, blonde mother and her father getting out of their Volvo. “You know I’m trying to steer clear of them.”

“I know, but I couldn’t not tell them we were back, and when I called, Mom was so excited that I couldn’t tell her she wasn’t allowed to come over,” Sophie said, still sounding as guilty as she looked when Claire turned back to her.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I know how she is.”

“Did you tell her about you and Logan?” Sophie asked.

“No,” she admitted.

“Claire.” It was Sophie’s turn to play the role of reproving sibling. “You’re going to have to tell her some time.”

“Actually, she wouldn’t have to, per se,” Trevor offered, casually stroking Sophie’s side as he spoke.

“Don’t encourage her,” Sophie chastised.

“Then don’t meddle,” he rejoined, giving Sophie a pointed look. “She’ll do what she thinks is right.”

“I guess so,” Sophie grumbled reluctantly as the doorbell chimed. “I’ll get it,” she added rather dryly, striding to the door in three steps.

Claire noted that despite Sophie’s rather large tummy, she didn’t suffer from the pregnancy waddle. Totally unfair.

Happy greetings interfered with her jealous musings as Sophie exchanged hugs with their mother and father. Her mother, a small, elegant woman in her sixties, wore white pants and a pink sweater set. Claire wondered how long it would be before she cornered her.

“Sophie, sweetheart, how was Paris?” their mother exclaimed, sending an arch glance Claire’s way. “Your sister has made herself so scarce we thought you took her with you.”

Claire groaned. Probably not long.

But her father approached her first, looking as if he’d just stepped off the golf cart with his sweater vest, tan pants, and loafers. He smiled down at her, his blue eyes reassuring. Claire noted he had a great deal more flecks of gray in his hair now than he had the last time she’d seen him.

She couldn’t recall when that had even been. Feeling guilty, she hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”

“And you, honey,” he murmured, pulling away to look down at her. “I hope everything’s all right.”

“Everything’s great.” The lie sprang to her lips easily, naturally.

His too-knowing gaze probed hers. “I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me. But now isn’t the time or the place, is it?”

“No,” she agreed, “it isn’t.”

He moved away from her to greet Trevor with a hearty clap on the back.

Claire’s mother took advantage of the opportunity to swoop in, appearing before her next.

She tucked her chin down and frowned at Claire in that patent, I-am-very-disappointed-in-you way that only mothers can really perfect. “How are you doing, dear?”

“Fine,” Claire answered as she received a hug from her mother.

“And how is Garrett?”

“I’m sure he’s fine too,” Claire gritted.

Her mother’s frown deepened until she had a deep vee furrowed in her forehead. “You don’t know how your husband and the father of your child is doing?”

Claire sighed, feeling a bone-deep weariness. “We’re getting a divorce, Mom. We don’t talk very often.”

“What is going through your head?” Her mother’s voice was discreetly low but still hard as steel. “You have that baby to consider now.”

“I know.” Claire made eyes at Sophie, who thankfully took the hint and came over for a rescue.

“How about some pictures?” Sophie asked with an unnatural amount of brightness. “You should see some of the gorgeous shots I got of the Notre Dame, Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower. I managed to paint a bit too, believe it or not.”

“I can’t wait,” their mother declared, turning back to Claire and patting her cheek, rather condescendingly to Claire’s mind. “We’ll talk later, dear.”

“Why don’t we all go in the living room,” Sophie suggested loudly. “Can I get anyone drinks?”

As the group began filing into the living room, the telephone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Anne offered. “Sophie, you get the pictures ready.”

“The phone’s on the kitchen counter,” Claire called to her mother. “I left it there last night.”

Anne made her way to the kitchen, brooding over Claire’s ridiculousness as she went. Really, why couldn’t Claire see she and Garrett were perfect together? Why couldn’t she put the baby’s needs first? Was this some sort of premature midlife crisis?

“It better not be,” she grumbled as she picked up the cordless phone and hit the talk button. “Hello?”

“Claire?”

Anne blinked. The confused-sounding male voice on the other end of the line was definitely not Garrett’s. “No,” she said, “this is her mother speaking.”

“I’m sorry. Could I please speak with Claire?”

He seemed polite enough, but Anne didn’t like him. What was he doing calling for her daughter, anyway? “She’s not here,” she lied. “She’s back at the house with her husband.”

Anne didn’t know why she’d said it, but she was glad she did when she heard the man’s reaction.

“Why is she there?” he asked, sounding angry, maybe even a little jealous.

Oh Lord. Suddenly everything made perfect, awful sense to Anne. Claire’s leaving Garrett, her refusal to reconcile with him even with the baby, all of it. Claire was seeing another man.

“They’ve reconciled.” The lie left her mouth before Anne even thought it over. She couldn’t let her daughter throw away a good marriage with the father of her baby for an affair with some man.

“Excuse me?” The disbelief in his voice gratified her.

“I can give you the number there if you’d still like to reach her,” she offered, feigning helpfulness.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, and hung up.

Anne hung up the cordless and stared at it for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt for meddling. Then again, she was only doing what she thought best. After all, a mother’s duty was to look after her daughter, especially when her daughter was making a complete mess of her life.

Yes, it had to be done, Anne decided, going off in search of her family. It was as simple as that.