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Chapter Thirty

Adeline

My mom did a silent count of the various sides. “Addy, could you bring the sweet potatoes in?”

“Maybe Conor could stop sexting and help out.”

My brother looked up from beneath his too-long hair. “You’re so obsessed with my sex life.”

Mom grimaced. “La la la, my son does not have a sex life.”

Conor chuckled. “Yes, Mom. I’m still a virgin.”

I made a face at him. He stuck his tongue out at me. Parity restored.

As much as I loved Thanksgiving and especially loved that the entire Kershaw brood was under one roof for the first time in two years, I was still out of sorts.

This morning, my mother had asked if I’d be okay with Lars’s presence at the table and I’d acted like this would be my favorite thing in the world.

Of course! I miss Mabel so much! I can handle passing the onion and sage stuffing to the guy I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with. Bring it on!

My mom had given me a sad smile. She knew the wounds still festered, but I needed to be a big girl about it. The new nanny was visiting her family in Michigan, Lars and Mabel were at a loose end, so of course they were welcome for Thanksgiving dinner. I wasn’t a complete monster.

Bringing the sweet potatoes out to the table, I tried not to cast my gaze through the French doors to the living room where Aurora was happily bouncing Mabel on her knee and Lars, my dad, and brothers—except Conor who was too busy texting whichever girl he’d charmed this week—were all watching the Bears suffer against Green Bay.

I fussed about with the table settings and moved the place cards so Lars was down at the other end of the table. Moments later, I heard the door squeak open. I didn’t dare turn.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, we’re fine.” Hauling a breath in deep, I pivoted and got a good look at him. He appeared drawn and tired. That should have cheered me, but I was concerned that Mabel might not be getting a caregiver in tip-top condition.

“How’s Mabel doing?”

“Aurora is spoiling her with Aurora kisses, which she claims are the best kind.”

A distant second to yours.

“She loves babies.” I moved a fork. “How are things with Janet?”

“I don’t see her much. It’s weird having a stranger in the house.”

“She hasn’t tried to jump you then?” I forced a chuckle, but it died on my lips at the look on his face. “Sorry, too soon?”

“Much too soon.” He shuffled a step forward. “Sorry about invading your holiday. I hate to make it awkward.”

“It’s not. Well, it is, but this is your family, too.”

He nodded, his blue eyes troubled and searching my face. Keeping our secret meant he got to keep the Kershaws, but at what cost? I was supposed to be happy for him, but I’d never felt more miserable.

“Any more musical gigs?”

“I’m filling in for Miss Emmy’s JiggleJams class at the Chicago School of Folk Music. She’s on maternity leave.”

“That’s amazing news. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I even get to play a few original compositions.”

He rubbed his beard, a move I loved. But then I loved all his moves.

He seemed to gravitate closer to me. I couldn’t help it; I did the same. We didn’t touch. We didn’t need to. I felt a strange comfort in his presence, a lovely salve to the ache in my chest. He was both the disease and the cure.

“Is Duckman going to finally get a couple more verses?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Duckman, Duckman, on the ice …” he started, low and a little tuneless.

“Skating faster than the …” I raised an eyebrow, feeling a weird giggle coming on.

“Mice?” He chuckled. “How did mice come into it?”

“We songstresses think long and hard about the perfect lyric.”

“First rhyme that popped into your head, right?”

I laughed. Moved closer. “Careful now. It could have been lice.”

“Aren’t I lucky?” he murmured, his breath a hot puff of air on my lips.

“So we have three kinds of cranberry …”

We jumped apart.

“…sauce.” My father stood at the entrance to the dining room, his expression confused. Several seconds ticked by, then several more. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. He knew what he’d seen but his mind was stuck, playing catch up.

“What’s going on?” The good guy, who thought the best of everyone, needed someone to tell him his brain wasn’t getting the right inputs.

Lars spoke first. “Theo, I’m completely to blame.”

Shit. Quickly, I stood between him and my dad. “Don’t get mad.”

“Don’t get mad? Are you kidding me?”

“Theo,” Lars repeated, but my dad cut him off with a look.

“Don’t. I trusted you. Invited you into my home. Included you in my family, and this is how you repay me? By making moves on my daughter?”

“Dad, please.”

Lars placed a hand on my hip and moved me aside. “It’s okay, Adeline. Your father and I need to talk. It’s been a long time coming.”

Dad’s gaze focused on Lars’s hand, which had touched my hip with such easy familiarity. Fury blazed in his eyes.

“You think talking will save you. No fucking way.”

The raised voices brought in spectators, starting with my mom carrying Mabel. The rest of the family crowded in behind her.

“What’s going on?” Mom looked at me, then her husband as no one spoke. “Will someone tell me what’s happening?”

“Nyquist has been messing around with Addy.” My father could barely get the words out. “He took advantage?—”

“No one took advantage. I’m a grown woman?—”

“You’re barely twenty-one!”

“I’m twenty-three, Dad.”

“And he’s what? Forty?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s thirty-six. And I’m not a child. Yes, I’m your child, but you were going to hate anyone I date anyway.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hatch’s wince.

My father threw up his hands. “Nope, not good enough. I’d like to see you with someone age-fucking-appropriate. Not this guy. A user, like his old man.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, Adeline, it’s okay.” Lars placed a hand on my back. “Your dad’s not wrong. I’m not what any man would choose for his daughter. And if I’d thought this was right, I would have been up front about it.”

“What’s happening?” Aurora came barging in, plowing her way through her gawping great-grandchildren. “I was in the bathroom. What’s the fuss?”

“Lars has been hooking up with Adeline,” Landon said.

“Lars? Well, of course he’s with Adeline. She’s perfect for him.”

“Bopping the nanny, though?” Conor side-eyed Landon, then Aurora. “Kind of a cliché.”

“Could you both be quiet?” My mom handed off the baby to Aurora. “In fact, everyone into the other room now. I’d like to talk with the principal players here.”

“Apparently we’re only supporting cast in this tragedy,” Landon sniffed and left the dining room with the rest of them.

My mom closed the French door and stood with her back to the windows, protecting us somewhat from prying eyes. “I thought you two were no longer together.”

Dad cut to Mom, his eyes wide with shock. “You knew?”

“I was under the impression it was finished.”

“It is,” I said. “We were just talking.”

“Well, you have your official nanny now,” Dad growled. “So you can quit sniffing around my daughter.”

Lars gutted out, “That’s not how it was, Theo.”

“Not how it was?” My father lunged, and again, I stood between them.

I turned to Lars. “It might be better if you go.”

“What? No. I’m not leaving you to face this.”

“He needs to settle down.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“Then stop acting like a caveman, Dad.”

My father looked so betrayed. We never argued. Sharp words between us were a novelty neither of us knew how to handle.

A wail went up from the other room. Mabel. Lars looked defeated—and torn. “I need to look after her.” He flicked a glance toward my father who had not suddenly softened on hearing the baby’s cry, then back to me. “I don’t like leaving you here to manage the fallout.”

“It’s really for the best.” I felt awful, sending him away on a day that was supposed to be about family and goodwill. But Thanksgiving was already ruined, and I didn’t see my father and Lars reconciling over pumpkin pie.

Lars squeezed my hip, which yielded a growl from my father. I searched Lars’s face and tried to tell him it would be okay. Of course, we were no longer a couple—if we ever had been—but I cared about him too much to inflict my father’s wrath on him.

He left the dining room, and a tense minute later I heard the front door open and close. During that time, my father paced, barely looking at me.

“Okay, give it to me.” I wanted it over with as soon as possible.

My father stopped wearing out the hardwood and turned to face me.

“I’m not mad at you, Twinkle. He took advantage and broke my trust. Of course you’re not to blame!

I can’t believe he was in my house, eating my food, wearing my kids’ clothes—well, you know what I mean!

And this is how he shows his gratitude. Helping himself to my daughter. ”

Enough. “This isn’t a case of big evil Lars seducing some innocent. I made a play for him.”

He stared at me, completely baffled. “Don’t make excuses for him. He’s older, a former friend of mine, and he should’ve known better.”

“And I have no agency here? You think I’m some wide-eyed virgin who can’t say no?”

Dad sent a beseeching glance my mom’s way. “Help me out here, Ellie.”

“You’re doing fine all by yourself.”

“Oh, right. You’re in on this, the big conspiracy.”

My mother looked uncomfortable, and I felt awful about that. Keeping my confidence had damaged the trust with her husband, one that was usually rock solid.

I grasped my father’s arm. “Dad, that’s my fault. Mom found out the night Mabel got sick,. I told her it wasn’t serious, and that it would be better all-around if you didn’t know. We were trying to protect you.”

My father fisted his hands on his hips. “Protect me? I’m a big boy, Adeline. I can handle the truth.”

“Sure about that?”

He glared at me.

“Lars and I are consenting adults. We had a fling”—I actually felt his wince that time—“and now it’s over.”

“It’s over? Didn’t look like it. Did he hurt you? I mean, your feelings?” Hearing him phrase it that way gave me hope. He knew that Lars was a good man and would never hurt me any other way.

“No, Dad,” I lied. “We both went into it knowing it was just a casual thing. Not a big deal at all.”

My father clearly couldn’t decide which was worse: that his friend and teammate saw me as a sex-only proposition or that Lars might want more.

“And it’s definitely done?”

My heart broke all over again. “Completely.”

Lars

I hated leaving Adeline behind. That she could handle her father better than I could was a given, but she shouldn’t have to face that alone. She was right, though. Theo would stay mad as long as I was in his sightline.

Once home, I changed Mabel and placed her in her playpen. I sent a text to Adeline: let me know you’re okay.

Nothing.

I knew Theo would blame me completely, which was fine because I was supposedly the should-know-better adult here.

I should have resisted every impulse to fall for her but fall for her I had.

Then I pushed her away. Not because she was the daughter of my friend, or completely too young for me.

But because I wasn’t suitable as a mate. I was barely making it as Mabel’s dad.

But she had told me she loved me. Brave, beautiful Adeline had spoken those words even when I made it clear it would never work.

Still she forged ahead, speaking her truth.

She stood between me and her father, ready to absorb his anger.

I’d wanted to give her space to fly, but now I wanted nothing more than to claim her for myself.

I checked my phone. Why wasn’t she answering?

The doorbell sounded. Thank God. She’d managed to slip away and now I could tell her the truth.

“Hold up, Mabel. Back in a tick.”

I bounded to the door, feeling weirdly happy despite the fuckery of before.

Kershaw knew, we didn’t have to hide anymore.

So I was still the asshole screw-up who told Adeline I was no better than Sven.

That might not have changed, but knowing my sins were public gave me hope I could now work on fixing it.

I pulled open the door, ready to tell Adeline I loved her.

“Hi, Lars. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Vicki had finally decided to show her face.