The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(61)

Ryan opened the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and popped the tab even though he wasn’t thirsty. He was antsy, thanks to everything that had simmered beneath the surface of his interactions today.

“Go shower, honey,” his mom instructed Emmy. “And please take all those towels into the laundry room on your way out of the kitchen.”

Emmy’s head dropped back and her shoulders slumped before she slid off the stool. “Work, work, work, Memaw. It’s all we do.”

Ryan spat some of the beer from his mouth when he laughed at the same time his mother replied with, “You’re practically Cinderella.”

Good God, they were both priceless.

Emmy dragged the bag of towels to the laundry room before she went upstairs. As soon as she was out of earshot, his mom turned to him. “How’d it go with the little girl . . . Lisa?”

“Pretty good, although they played in the cabin more than they enjoyed the open water.”

“That’s not surprising.” His mom waved her hand. “Everything down there is miniature, like them. Did they get along?”

“Yup.” He probably ought to shower, too, he thought. Maybe that would wash away the itchy restlessness clinging to him like dried sea spray.

Before he made a getaway, his mom asked, “How’d Steffi handle the girls?”

“Like a champ. She remembered everything about sailing, too.” He smiled without thinking, realizing his mistake when his mom seized upon it.

“So you enjoyed the day together? You two always got along so well.” She dug back into the picnic basket in search of the leftover chicken. Without meeting his gaze, she mused aloud, “Now that you’re both single and back home, who knows . . .”

Just as he suspected.

“You set this up from the start, didn’t you?” He waved his beer bottle toward the back porch. “There are other contractors, but you picked her on purpose. Admit it.”

He couldn’t even pretend to be mad at this point. If anything, he should probably thank her. He would one day, just not at the moment.

“What’s that thing you advise your clients to do . . . take the Fifth?” She cocked a brow above a sly smile.

He shook his head. “You know what can happen when you play with fire, don’t you, Mom?”

“There’s no warmth in life without a little fire, honey.” She surprised him by gathering him into a hug and giving him a squeeze, something she hadn’t done in quite a while. Hell, he hadn’t been hugged by anyone but Emmy in months. It felt good. It felt like home.

“I’d better get my own place soon; otherwise, you’ll train Emmy to meddle, too,” he teased before easing away.

“You should buy the Weber cottage when Stefanie’s done renovating it.”

“We’ll see.” That would require money, which meant he had to deal with Val. That thought soured the taste of his beer. “See you in a bit.”

When he reached the top of the stairwell, he overheard Emmy talking on the cell phone Val had sent her this past week. He crept closer to her room, stopping just outside her door to listen—partly to spite Val and partly because Emmy’s moods were so affected by conversations with her mom that he wanted to be prepared.

“We played house in the little cabin. It was so cool, Mommy. There was a bed and sort of a kitchen and a little potty that Dad called the head.” She laughed. “Isn’t that funny?”

Val probably didn’t find it funny. In fact, she probably remembered some of the stories about the boat that he’d told her in the earliest days, when he’d been drowning his broken heart in cheap beer. Back when Val had found the opening she’d needed and crawled inside, wrapping herself around him. He’d taken everything she wanted to give to heal his wounds, and for a while that had worked out for both of them.

Emmy’s voice snapped him from that thought.

“Yes, Miss Steffi came. She knows how to sail. She worked the jib and Daddy was steering with the . . . the tiller. Anyway, we parked by a little island. Then Miss Steffi jumped in the water and yelled, ‘Fish bait!’ She was funny, but she was freezing in there, so Dad made her come back on the boat and wrapped her in a towel.”

Ryan brought his hands to his forehead. That overshare wouldn’t make negotiating a settlement any easier. Then he heard Emmy’s tone turn less pleasant. “No, Mommy. They’re special friends, that’s all. We can still be a family again.”

Ryan held his breath. The plea in Emmy’s voice pierced his heart. He’d failed her. Failed at the most important job and relationship of his life. Even if or when he found love again, Emmy’s life would never be whole. Everything would be split: birthdays, holidays, vacations. And she’d always carry this wound around from Val’s choice to give Ryan full custody.

He had to make sure he never let her down again.

“Okay, I’ll find him,” Emmy murmured.

Ryan heard his daughter’s feet hit the ground, so he pretended to be walking down the hallway. She came out of her room and nearly knocked into him.

“Mommy wants to talk to you.” She was looking at him funny now. He suspected she was thinking about her mom’s insinuations about Steffi. He didn’t need his daughter quizzing him before he even understood all his feelings.

Ryan held out his palm. “Go see if Memaw needs help in the kitchen.” Once Emmy disappeared down the stairs, he pressed the phone to his chest for a second and prayed for patience. “Hey, Val. What’s up?”